


The Road Not Taken

by fencer_x



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Unrequited Love, one-sided Hatori/Chiaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 11:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 66,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: [Semi-AU where Yuu confesses before Hatori] How are you supposed to react when your best friend tells you he's in love with you?





	1. Chapter 1

Yuu shrugged, with the same detached ambivalence he might offer when asked his opinion on the latest Haagen Dazs flavor-of-the-month or what he thought of the shade of red they'd gone with for the obi for Chiaki's upcoming tankoubon release.

His lips curled up at their corners with slow, honest charm, and he breathed in deeply. "I dunno. I just do. There's a lot about you _to_ like, you know."

Chiaki's shoulders stopped shaking with repressed laughter, and the flush on his cheeks deepened, the alcohol compounded his blush with nervous shame. "…Wait, you're serious?"

A nod, and suddenly Yuu found his wine glass far more interesting than Chiaki's face, swirling the contents in a pendulous motion. "I'm always serious with you, Chiaki. Except when I'm joking." He cracked a sardonic smile and slid his gaze back to his friend, narrowed and sharp. "But I'm not joking now."

Chiaki held up his hands, shifting on his seat uncomfortably, and tried to keep his voice in check, not wanting to rouse the attention of the bar's other patrons or let on how discomfited he was feeling just about now. "Wait wait wait—okay, you're serious, but…I don't get it…"

"You're cute when you're confused, you know."

"Oi, cut it out," Chiaki protested, trying to keep his voice from breaking, and he downed the rest of his wine in one quick gulp, shaking his head in a futile attempt to clear it. "You're not being clear at all."

"I thought I was pretty straightforward, personally," Yuu all but pouted, resting an elbow on the bar and using it to prop his head up in his palm. "I like you."

"You keep saying that," Chiaki grunted, hunching down in his chair and casting nervous glances at the other patrons, wary of being overheard. Not that anyone really had any cause to pay attention to a couple of overworked mangaka sharing a drink at a more upscale place than they usually frequented just because, dammit, they'd finally gotten the last few panels off to the printers and could afford to relax a bit—at least until Tori called in the middle of the night to let him know that the printers had screwed up and the colors were all wrong for the cover and he needed to recheck the hex codes Chiaki had requested because someone somewhere had screwed up and mixed a "d" for a "b". Chiaki closed his eyes, wincing at the thought already. "What does that even _mean_?"

Yuu just continued to favor him with that cryptic smile, letting a bit of affection seep into it, and it was this that unsettled Chiaki most. "It means I like you. I'm attracted to you. It's really not that complicated."

Chiaki slapped the smooth lacquered wood between them. "So—what? You're saying you're—you know, that you like…"

"—That I like Chiaki. Just that." He drew himself up and finished off his wine. "It's all you need to understand."

He then shifted on his stool and swung his legs around to slip off, but Chiaki shot an arm out to hold him back. "Wait—where are you going?"

Yuu raised a brow. "Toilet. Wanna come with?" And Chiaki instantly released him, leaving Yuu to readjust the lapels on his coat and snicker softly. "I'm not running away, Chiaki. I still haven't heard your response."

Which gave Chiaki a span of two, perhaps three minutes the sort through the mess of confusion in his mind and figure out what the _fuck_ was going on.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his palms over his face a few times, slapping himself on the cheeks. They'd just come here for celebratory drinks: Chiaki would've been fine with one of the izakayas near the studio, but Yuu had been insistent that it was a big achievement (really, no bigger than any other finished volume) and demanded a certain higher class of drinking establishment. Chiaki had seen little reason to object, given that Yuu had offered to foot the bill in the end, and so here they had found themselves. How was he supposed to know Yuu had ulterior motives like _confessing_?

Who did that at their age? Guys like them just found someone they were compatible with and invited them on a date—you didn't go up to someone like it was between classes in high school and bow your head and just say _I'm sorry, I've liked you for a long time. I just wanted you to know._

And that too! Who just _wanted someone to know_? What kind of a half-assed confession was that? Yuu didn't look like he cared one way or another how Chiaki responded, like he only wanted to hear his reaction because it was politic to do so. Wasn't he nervous at confessing his feelings to another guy? After all—what were the chances one guy confessing to another was going to get a positive reaction? One in ten? A hundred? A thousand? Did Yuu even consider things like that, or did he just shoot for the moon?

Slumping onto the bar, Chiaki frowned, letting his face flatten against the bar's smooth wooden surface. What was he supposed to do? He wasn't gay—and even if he _were_ remotely attracted to guys, or could convince himself that the plumbing didn't matter, that the personality was more important…Yuu was Yuu. It'd be like—geez, like _Tori_ confessing to him (which was a laugh riot, given that the very idea of words like _love_ and _attracted to you_ passing Tori's lips was ridiculous. You just didn't fall for people you'd known as far back as you could remember—you fell for someone new and exciting, who set your heart to racing just by being near them, who made you smile for the simplest reasons, without whom you couldn't be happy without being in their presence. You didn't fall for your best friends.

Obviously, no one had told Yuu that, though. "Sorry for the wait~" came a sing-song voice from behind him, and Yuu jumped back up onto his seat, wiping his hands on his handkerchief while nodding to the barkeep for a refill on his wine. "You want anything?" Chiaki shook his head, still slumped over the bar, and Yuu frowned at the change in demeanor, shifting the topic of conversation. "…So?"

"So?" Chiaki echoed, but the way his shoulders stiffened at the question was a dead giveaway that he was playing dumb.

Yuu nodded his thanks to the barkeep, taking a deep whiff of the wine's fragrance. "Have you thought it over?"

And truthfully, Chiaki felt like he'd thought the topic _to death_ and at the same time hadn't had nearly enough time to get his mind in order. In the end, he straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest, training his eye on an interesting whorl in the wood grain. "I…I'm sorry, Yuu. I just—don't feel the same way about you. I just want to be friends."

Yuu snickered softly. "Yeah, I figured."

Chiaki spared him a hesitant glance. "You don't sound too surprised." Or too beat up over it either, a part of him noted bitterly. If he liked Chiaki so much, shouldn't be be more disappointed? Was he just dicking around, playing the fun drunk to tease Chiaki? Maybe it was his way of letting off steam after three weeks practically driving themselves into the ground.

Yuu just shrugged with that same frustrating evenness. "More like—I'd kinda already accepted it. I didn't tell you because I expected you to say you felt the same way, after all."

"Then…why?"

"Mmm…maybe I'm bored? This makes things more exciting, don't you think?" Chiaki's face flushed with frustration and annoyance, and Yuu swallowed the sip he'd just taken quickly, coughing. "I don't mean that I wasn't serious—get a grip." And Chiaki did calm, just a hair, letting his fists fall to his side, only realizing now he'd raised them in challenge. Yuu leaned against the bar and circled the rim of his wine glass with one finger, staring into space. "It gets a little dull, you know. Just sitting back and watching you run around every day, oblivious to how people feel about you when they're around you so much. Like—it's the same thing all the time; you do something, or say something—or maybe you're just _there_ and you've got this expression on your face I haven't seen before and it kind of hits me. Makes me feel like I don't want the same thing every day, want to change it up some. So—today I finally did."

"Even though you knew what I'd say?"

"I didn't _know_ ," Yuu confessed with a sad smile. "Maybe I had a little sliver of hope. Too much manga reading, I guess." He straightened up and patted Chiaki on the shoulder—the rough slap of a friend and colleague. "But—don't worry too much about it, if you can, 'kay? I'd feel bad if it creeped you out so much you couldn't work with me any more." He added _sotto voce_ , "Hatori'd be pissed I lost you an awesome assistant, too."

"Cocky much?"

"Hey—I just confessed I've been nursing a crush on my boss for fifteen years _to_ said boss. I think that fairly well proves I have balls the size of cantaloupes, don't you?" He took a long swig from his glass. "The wine helped, though."

Chiaki let out a soft chuckle despite himself and leaned back in his seat, settling against the stool's high back with a sigh. "I guess I'm fine with it—if you are?"

Yuu cocked his head and raked a gaze over Chiaki before glancing away and disguising his reaction with a sip of wine. "It's been fine for fifteen years. Why mess up a good thing?"

Chiaki nodded on the outside, but inside, he just wondered how anyone could ever get with the person they loved taking that approach. Yuu was _really_ weird.


	2. Chapter 2

Chiaki poked at the reheated omurice with disdain, nose wrinkling at the lack of give in the omelette portion. Leftovers—even Tori's—were never as good as food fresh off the stove, leaving Chiaki sitting here hunched over his table trying to decide if he was really hungry enough to settle for crumbly rice inside a wilted egg or if he was going to just toss the whole thing and grab an early lunch.

He recalled, distantly, that he had a box of cornflakes he'd bought weeks ago sitting inside his little pantry—but they were probably stale by now, and Tori had gone through the trouble of cooking a weekend's worth of meals the afternoon before so that Chiaki wouldn't have to worry about calling for takeout or possibly burning down his own kitchen while his friend was away on his business trip. He felt he should eat the omurice more out of obligation and not wanting Tori's hard work to go to waste than actual hunger.

His stomach growled softly, and he rubbed a hand over his belly, frowning. Yuu's confession aside, he really needed a girlfriend. Someone with a part-time job, or maybe just a home-maker (Chiaki could certainly support a freeloader or three) who could be home all the time and cook Chiaki breakfast while packing a cute little bentou (with wieners cut into octopus shapes of course and faces drawn in the rice with nori) and have a handsome, hot dinner waiting when he dragged himself home from the studio. Tori was too busy with work to pamper Chiaki as much as he'd like—and Yuu liked to just throw the entire spice rack into his cooking which could get a little much at times. "Maybe I could splice them together…and then stick some boobs on them…" Invariably the image of such a concoction formed in his mind, and he snorted ungracefully. Definitely not.

His cellphone buzzed loudly on the table next to him, and he jumped with a yelp, heartbeat racing before he realized the source of the commotion. Flipping the receiver open without checking the number, he cleared his throat before answering. "He—Hello?"

_"Morning, Sleepyhead."_

"Yuu…" He pushed his plate away and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table, cradling his phone between his ear and shoulder. "I thought you had a job today?"

_"I got dumped."_

"Eh?"

Yuu laughed softly over the airwaves. _"The author canceled on me at the last minute—and I woke up at 5 AM to be there bright and early even! Geez, women…"_

Chiaki rolled his eyes. "You can't take it personally."

_"Well it wouldn't have hurt her to drop me a line last night so I didn't have to drag my ass out of bed at the crack of dawn to make it out to her studio in the middle of god-knows-where by 7."_

Chiaki _hmm_ ed in sympathy and started drawing pictures on top of the egg with ketchup, quite sure he wasn't going to be eating the thing now. "So what, you called to complain?"

_"Nope—called to save you from having to eat Hatori's bland, crappy leftovers. Come have lunch and a movie with me."_

Chiaki dropped the ketchup bottle, letting it roll off the table, and clutched the phone to his ear with both hands, dropping his voice into a hiss. "Wh-what?"

_"…Lunch? Meal, middle of the day? Maybe Shinjuku somewhere—then hit up Picadilly for something with lots of explosions? Am I speaking in tongues or something?"_

Swallowing thickly, Chiaki mulled over the invitation. "Yeah, but—not, like…a date…right?"

There was a long pause, and then raucous laughter. _"What the hell—who goes on a date in the middle of the day?!"_

"L—lots of couples! All the time! It's normal!"

_"…And we're a couple?"_

"Eh—oh, well no, but you just said—"

Yuu sighed wearily, and not in the _amused at Chiaki_ way, either. _"…Na, Chiaki."_

"What?"

_"…If I'd asked you if you wanted to have lunch and then catch a movie two days ago, would you have assumed it was a date then?"_ Chiaki didn't respond, but Yuu didn't seem to need him to. _"Then why would you assume so now? I told you—I didn't confess because I expected you to feel the same way. And I'm fine with staying friends, so long as you're not weirded out by it. I like you—in every way. You're my best friend—so just…you don't have to look at everything I do now and wonder if I have some ulterior motive behind it."_

Chiaki slumped in the chair, flushing in humiliation at his reaction; this was why you weren't supposed to have feelings for your friends, regardless of your gender. Or at least you were never supposed to _tell_ them about it, because then people like Chiaki started reading too much into things and ruining perfectly good relationships because he was too concerned with giving Yuu the "wrong idea", when Yuu was sitting here trying to patiently explain to him that he _wasn't going to get_ the "wrong idea" because he apparently understood this whole rejection thing better than Chiaki did. "I'm sorry… I just—I'm not used to it is all."

_"Mmm, well try not to think about it, if you can? You're gonna make me regret going through with it at this rate!"_ He punctuated the sentence with a laugh to try and relieve some of the tension.

"Don't you?"

_"Don't I what?"_

"Regret it?"

Another long pause. _"I regret…that you're probably gonna think of me from now on as your 'friend who's got a crush on you' or something rather than your 'friend who's a damn good manga assistant and is also charming and attractive and what? Of course you can have his number—he's just been rejected and has a broken heart in need of healing and—'"_

"All right all right, I get it—geez. And fine, lunch and a movie. But you're not treating me this time."

_"Too much like a date?"_ Yuu laughed, but added good naturedly, _"Well, I can't say my wallet is feeling any ill effects from you turning me down."_

Exactly; this whole thing was working out just fine.

* * *

Lunch was a casual affair—in the middle of Shinjuku on a Saturday afternoon, it was hard to be anything _but_ casual—and they found themselves squeezed into a tiny corner booth at a Lotteria after Yuu staked his claim to the spot, hustling off a pair of middle schoolers toting bags crammed full of idol magazines. Chiaki managed to navigate the maze of humanity loitering around the dining area, his tray piled high with two cheeseburger sets, and he cast a wary glance around until he spotted his friend waving him over.

Yuu snatched his burger off the tray before Chiaki even set the thing between them, taking a large bite out of it and proceeding to regale Chiaki with the latest mangaka gossip that only assistants were privy to, pausing only to steal a few of Chiaki's fries in between sips of his iced tea. "And so apparently she _told_ her editor she needed some time off to deal with the stress—understandable, I guess, since she had one title getting made into an anime and another holding auditions for voice actors for the drama CD—but really it was _maternity leave_." He took a loud slurp of his tea and shook a fry in Chiaki's face. "Maternity leave—three months after getting hitched? Sounds suspect to me!"

"You sure do like to gossip," Chiaki commented idly. "Makes me wonder what you tell the other assistants about _me_ behind my back."

"Only good things—cross my heart! You wouldn't believe how many are gunning to be your full-time executive assistant." He tossed the fry into his mouth. "But I don't plan on giving up my position so easily to those wolves."

"You're not my full-time executive assistant anyways."

"But if you could afford to hire me, I would be—right?" Chiaki shrugged nodding ambivalently as he finished off the last of his burger. "Then that's good enough for me. For now."

Chiaki swallowed with some effort. "I'd be a horrible person to work for full time."

"Maybe—but you're fun to work _with_. So it's good enough for me."

"That doesn't make any sense." Yuu just shrugged, seemingly perfectly aware. "What time's the movie?"

Glancing at his watch, Yuu frowned. "Another…half hour? No rush—it's just a block away." He wiped his fingers on his napkin and crossed his arms, relaxing against the bench and closing his eyes.

Chiaki watched him warily, finishing off the last of his fries and slurping down his soda. He'd always wondered why Yuu seemed so intent on never settling down as an assistant unless it was in Chiaki's studio, and now things were finally starting to make more sense. But somehow, rather than giving him the expected ego boost you might usually get from realizing someone had a crush on you that ran this deep, the knowledge only made him feel guilty.

He was responsible for holding Yuu back, sending him flitting from job to job, studio to studio, turning down lucrative offers from authors who made more bank than Yoshikawa Chiharu all just so that he could sit across from Chiaki in their cramped studio huddled over a light table or cutting out tone for thirty hours straight—and for what? So that he could hang around a guy who was never going to be able to return his feelings? You didn't do that kind of thing for just a friend, no matter how Yuu might try to assuage Chiaki's concerns.

He wondered, not for the first time, what it was Yuu liked about him. He was kinda scrawny, thin from eating too little under a deadline—a habit that tended to put new wrinkles on Tori's already over-wrinkled forehead—and his clothes hung baggy on him. He wasn't stylish (what was the use in dressing up when you were going to be in a muggy studio the whole time?) and he was, well, a bit of a nerd, even he could admit.

Maybe Yuu wasn't physically attracted to him, then? Maybe it was one of those things were you fell for a certain personality? But then—Chiaki felt he had a pretty bland personality, and Tori liked to remind him he was an airhead. If that was the kind of person Yuu fell for, he felt kinda sorry for the guy.

Yuu cracked an eye, as if conscious of Chiaki's train of thought. "You done?"

Chiaki nodded, slurping up the last of his soda, and wiped his hands on a few clean napkins. "Movie time~"

* * *

The movie was, as requested, suitably stuffed with explosions and gunfights and death-defying stunts by the hero to save his love interest, and all in all Chiaki considered it an afternoon well-spent. He dragged Yuu into the nearest Starbucks he could find and sat them down at a little table in high-backed stools to discuss the state of CG animation and what this meant for the film industry in the future. Yuu, saint that he was, let Chiaki talk himself silly before eventually suggesting they actually _purchase_ something to excuse their taking up two perfectly good seats in a well-traveled cafe.

Sliding a frappuccino his way, Yuu waved him off when Chiaki reached for his wallet. "You can get mine next time." At Chiaki's frown, he reminded him. "It's not a date—but I already put away the receipt and don't remember how much it was. Happy?" Chiaki nodded, glad Yuu didn't bring up the fact that they did this sort of give and take thing all the time (all right, Yuu and Tori tended to treat him more than he treated either of them, but still) and why should this being a date or not matter?

Why was he having so much trouble with settling down and treating this like any other outing with one of his closest friends? Why did he keep seeing Yuu leaning against the bar, head propped up in his palm and eyes warm and amused as he admitted seemingly effortlessly, _"You know, I've always been in love with you"_? After all, Yuu himself looked like he'd already moved on and was sitting firmly back in the friend zone, grateful to be there and at least not pushed away entirely.

It was just—hard to accept. If Yuu'd been serious about liking him, how could he give up that easily? Just because Chiaki couldn't think of any way he'd possibly ever fall for a guy, let alone one of his best friends, didn't mean it was impossible, right? Though why _Chiaki_ had to be the one thinking these things and not Yuu himself was beyond him—and it wasn't like he _wanted_ to fall for anyone (cute girlfriends waiting at home with a hot meal for him aside), it was just… It was kind of disappointing. That someone like Yuu, who was objectively a great guy with a good sense of humor and positive, proactive personality, was stuck being in love with Chiaki…who would never be able to return those feelings.

Maybe he'd start looking for someone else now? Maybe that was why he'd confessed—to give himself closure? Would it be terribly gauche for Chiaki to try and set him up with someone? Was he only into guys, or could he drop a few hints to some of the female assistants that passed through that Yuu was single and looking? He tried to picture Yuu at the bar again—now smiling that sly grin and making inappropriate jokes with Furukawa-san or Inoue-san—and not surprisingly it didn't really seem to click entirely.

Yuu never went on dates—not _date_ dates, not alone—always passed up invitations to go drinking after a long haul just to spend an evening playing video games with Chiaki or crashing overnight together in a manga cafe.

The more he thought about it, the clearer it was becoming that Yuu was being serious, in his own way, albeit hands-off and subtle, until Chiaki couldn't tell what was just an indispensable part of their friendship and what was Yuu spoiling him out of pure personal desire.

And that was a dangerous thing to be confused about.


	3. Chapter 3

A week later, Chiaki was about to fall asleep right into his latte, lids drooping as he waited for the soft _skritch-skritch_ of Tori's pen to finally fall silent so he could endure the harsh critique his friend seemed to have no qualms about delivering.

He'd tried to explain to Chiaki, long ago, that it wasn't to be mean; it was only that he genuinely wanted to see Chiaki succeed, to put out bestseller after bestseller and prove, eventually, that being a first-rate shoujo mangaka had nothing to do with what was between your legs and everything to do with your imagination and artistic prowess. And while Chiaki sincerely appreciated the sentiment…he still could have done without the—

"What kind of crap is this?" Tori shoved one of the pages in his face, sending Chiaki scrambling backwards. He shook it for good measure and continued, "My parents' rheumatic dog could've come up with a better gag than that."

Chiaki snatched up the page with a huff, trying to force his eyes to focus on the panels before him, sorely regretting staying up to watch a late-night documentary as research for his next project. He really needed to send his recorder in for repairs or risk breaking his next deadline when he'd promised Tori he wouldn't in return for tickets to an exhibition that had been sold out. Scratching the top of his head with his free hand, he squinted. "…You think it's that bad?"

"No—I'm only kidding. It's quite possibly your best work yet." Chiaki glanced up just quickly enough to catch Tori roll his eyes. "Of course it's _that bad_. You think I'd waste time I could be spending on clients more troublesome than you if it weren't that bad?"

Chiaki slumped back in his chair. "I thought I was your most troublesome client." This drew a small smile from Tori at least, and Chiaki sighed softly. "Sorry—I've just got a lot on my mind lately."

"Like?"

He shrugged ambivalently, not entirely sure this was the sort of thing he was supposed to discuss with anyone not directly involved. It was…rude, wasn't it? "Just—stuff." Tori raised a brow, shuffling the pages. "I can't really talk about it." Tori just calmly continued to leaf through the pages, gaze narrowed. "I seriously can't! I promised—okay, I didn't _promise_ , but it'd be rude to just—" Now Tori took a sip of his own latte, frowning at the temperature, and Chiaki groaned in frustration. "…Yuu confessed to me."

And now _both_ of Tori's brows shot up into his hairline. "…Yanase?"

"You know any other 'Yuu's?" he groused, annoyed with himself for letting Tori's mental attacks hit home.

There was a long pause that stretched between them, quiet except for the dull murmurs of the cafe's other occupants. "…What did you say to him?"

"Eh?" Chiaki glanced up, confused, and found Tori staring off to the side, gaze focused on the floor. "I—just, what are you _supposed_ to say when someone tells you that kind of thing? He's a guy—and one of my best friends." His shoulders hunched and he closed his eyes, mumbling, "Of course I turned him down…"

Tori cleared his throat and started to straighten the pages, tapping the stack on the edge of the table. "Then I don't see what the problem is—your personal life shouldn't interfere with your professional one."

Chiaki bristled at the cold response. "You're supposed to offer me advice here, not bitch at me some more, geez!"

The table shook with the force of Tori setting down his mug, frown deepening—if that were even possible. "It doesn't matter what happens in your personal life; unless you're laid up in bed dying of some terminal illness, you're expected to not disappoint your fans and put out a first-rate piece of work. You can address your problems with Yanase or anyone else after you've turned in your final print."

"…You suck at giving good advice, you know."

"You never take it anyways. Why would I waste good advice on you?"

Chiaki crossed his arms, defensive. "Because—that's what friends do! Tell each other how to fix their problems even if they know it won't do any good."

"I'm not really seeing what your 'problem' is here, honestly. You said he confessed, and you turned him down. I don't get the sense that this has greatly impacted his own work, so I don't see why it should impact yours either." He glanced down at his watch and sighed. "And now I'm late for a lunch meeting. I want to see your second draft by Wednesday—morning, not evening." Chiaki opened his mouth to protest. "You're a mangaka, Yoshino. You have a job to get done and people counting on you. Yanase obviously isn't too torn up about it; you shouldn't be either." He stood and pulled on his suit jacket, readjusting his lapels and tie. "I'll come over tomorrow evening to check up on your progress."

Chiaki brightened instantly. "You'll make dinner? What?"

"I didn't say I'd make dinner."

"But—you always make dinner when you come over…?" Tori sighed, and Chiaki knew he'd won. "Can we have eggplant curry? Like you made last month?"

Tori ignored him, but Chiaki could see him making a mental list of ingredients already. "I'll see you tomorrow, Yoshino."

* * *

"…aki."

Chiaki winced, rolling over onto his side, away from the looming presence and soft but insistent prodding.

"…iaki, wake up already."

Letting his lids flutter open, he took a few moments to process his surroundings: his own over-sized bed—far more mattress than one person could ever need—dim, warm light filtering around the room from hanging lamps, and someone leaning over him and gently shaking his shoulder, calling his name insistently. "Oi, _Chiaki_."

He shifted onto his back, trying to make his eyes focused, and found Yuu staring down in patient amusement. "Thought I was going to have to douse you with water or something."

"I…fell asleep?"

"Seems like it. I came by to drop off the panels you asked me to do earlier and to see if you needed any help finishing your bits. I take it that's a _hell yes_?"

Chiaki frowned, glancing around the room and trying to remember what day it was even before tackling the issue of what the heck Yuu was going on about. "Oh—damn, right. The storyboard for Tori…"

Yuu tightened his grip on Chiaki's shoulder, putting pressure to gain his attention and ducking his head to put himself in Chiaki's line of sight. "I don't wanna be an ass but—Tori was right. It's pretty crappy, the work you put into that first draft this time. It's not like you…" Chiaki could feel Yuu's worried gaze raking across his features and shivered. "I know you don't tend to sleep too much under a deadline but—you're _always_ under a deadline. You can't push yourself like this."

Chiaki nodded blankly, then twigged to where they were. "Wait—how'd you get in?"

"You left the door unlocked, idiot. I was gonna just drop the pages into your mail slot when you didn't answer, but I got worried."

"Ah—sorry." He rubbed his fists into his eyes. "What time is it?" It was hard to concentrate on any one thing—just Yuu's presence and the comfort of his bed and the darkness and the warm palm braced against his bicep.

"Ten to nine." Yuu shifted off the bed, and Chiaki was momentarily disappointed at the loss of contact, entertaining the rash idea of how good it would've felt to just fall back onto the bed and curl up against someone—anyone would do, and Yuu was right here—and catch up on the sleep he'd lost to worry and stress over the past few days. It was like the stress of a deadline looming in the foreground twice over, and no one could listen to him gripe about it or offer a sympathetic ear. Maybe he needed to hire a therapist.

Chiaki forced himself to blink a few times, bringing the room into focus, and smiled softly in the darkness. "Sorry to worry you—and thanks for helping out with those pages; I should be able to finish up the rest by Wednesday."

"I really don't mind—" Yuu started, but trailed off as Chiaki shook his head. "Even if I want to?"

"It's just a few pages of rewrites," Chiaki laughs dryly.

"So then it shouldn't be a big deal for me to help, right?"

"Well, no, but—" But? If it really wasn't a big deal—and since when is letting his friends spoil him a big deal?—then he shouldn't have any problems with at least letting Yuu start at the bottom of the stack and Chiaki at the top and have them meet in the middle. Why was he hesitant to now let Yuu do what he liked: nice things for Chiaki, favors as a friend and not as a manga assistant?

The answer was rather obvious: because he didn't like leading Yuu on. But he hadn't been leading Yuu on before he confessed (not consciously at least), so why should treating him the same way now have any different meaning? Hadn't Yuu explicitly told him that he didn't want Chiaki thinking of him as _that friend_? Tori was right in that he really needed to learn to separate his personal and professional lives more clearly, and if people fell into both of those categories, he needed to be more adept at interacting with them according to the occasion.

He sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair. "It's not on the clock, though…"

Yuu just snorted and reached forward, grabbing his wrist and yanking him up into a standing position before forcibly turning him around and guiding him back into the den. "Your payrate sucks anyways. I couldn't buy a bento with the money I'd get from a small job like this."

"Then why do it?"

"Because you're Chiaki and I want to help you put out a good product." Whether _because you're Chiaki_ meant Chiaki the friend or Chiaki the person Yuu cared about romantically was unstated, but Chiaki supposed that they were the same thing in Yuu's mind, so it was probably a bit of both. It was starting to make him less uncomfortable though—mostly because when Yuu acted the way he did, like nothing had changed whatsoever and started talking about the latest chapter of _Za Kan_ or murmurings about Ijuuin-sensei's next project or a fantastic bakery he found near the station by his apartment, it was easy to forget that when Yuu looked at him, it had always been with more than a platonic eye.

He swallowed and stepped up the pace, pulling away from Yuu's touch at his shoulders, and half-jogged into the kitchen area, ostensibly to get the two of them some refreshments, sending Yuu to start sorting through the panels still left to reformat in line with Tori's suggestions (which were less suggestions and more _do this or your work will never see the light of day_ ). They worked in companionable silence, and Chiaki was relieved to find his fatigue from earlier slipping away, his second wind finally catching up with him in the relaxing environment of his own home. "Maybe I should work from home instead of the studio…" he brought up idly when he realized he was only two pages from finishing his own stack.

"Idiot," Yuu laughed, not lifting his eyes from his work. "You'd never get anything done then."

"I'm almost done now!"

"That's cause I'm here; if you were working on your own, you'd get distracted too easily, and you don't want to invite the others over to your house do you? It's pretty unprofessional, I'd think."

Chiaki felt his energy leave him in one fell swoop and slumped back against the couch cushions. "It'd be fine if I could just clone you and have a few extra Yuus around."

And now Yuu glanced up, eyes glinting with something Chiaki couldn't define. "You never think about what you're going to say before it's out of your mouth, do you?"

* * *

Yuu loved the guy, in every sense of the word, but _god_ could Chiaki be thick sometimes. It was worse, because Yuu knew full well that Chiaki had no ill intentions behind the things he said, didn't consider the implications behind an idle comment about how he wished there were more of Yuu around. And it wasn't as if Yuu didn't understand that he probably thought the same things about Hatori; it was a wonder Chiaki hadn't bullied them all into living together with Hatori paying rent as cook and Yuu as an on-call assistant.

But while such irreplaceable aspects of Chiaki's personality had been easy to forgive before Yuu had gotten too mouthy at the bar last week, now it was…frustrating, to be honest.

It wasn't as if he wanted Chiaki walking on eggshells around him all the time, but he also would've appreciated a bit of consideration for his feelings. Was it so bad to ask Chiaki to find some safe middle ground for their relationship now that didn't ruin the parts of each other they still cared for but that shielded the bits that shouldn't be brought up in polite conversation?

Yuu sighed, letting his head fall against the cold metal piping along the seat arm of the bench he was occupying, keeping his ears trained for his stop. It wasn't so very late, but he'd stayed up the previous evening rushing through the last-minute changes Chiaki had begged for his help with. He'd kicked himself a few times over for agreeing so quickly, even though he wasn't going to be able to get out of Satou-sensei's studio until after 9, but Chiaki was Chiaki, and Yuu knew full well the absolute state he'd be in if Yuu didn't bend over backwards to help whenever he could.

If he didn't work himself to the bone—Chiaki would. And sometimes even if he _did_ work himself to the bone, Chiaki still had to as well, which meant his services were all the more necessary and had him prioritizing a job that didn't even pay that well over all others, just because of his stupid, years-long crush.

He didn't even remember why he'd bothered confessing in the first place now. He hadn't lied; he really _hadn't_ expected Chiaki to reciprocate, so he was hardly moping that reality had reflected his expectations. Quite the contrary—he was honestly grateful that even if it irritated and grated, Chiaki was trying to treat him the same as he had before and hadn't spoken a judgmental word or shown any sign that he thought Yuu strange or disgusting for his preferences. Perhaps he'd had his head buried in shoujo manga for so long he'd stopped being fazed by such revelations.

A voice came over the intercom system to announce that the train was pulling into his station, and Yuu slipped his bag over his head, adjusting the strap across his chest as he waited for the car to slow to a stop.

It was only that—he loved Chiaki, had loved him since middle school, before he'd even really known what love was. Those feelings of affection had blossomed with time into physical attraction and a desire to care for and protect, the latter of which he would always be allowed as a friend, and the former of which he wouldn't. It helped that most of the time Chiaki was so bogged down with work, he never had a chance to lift his head and search for a romantic partner, so Yuu never had to worry. Even when he'd made the odd attempt to score a date in their youth, he'd always made the mistake of shooting far outside of his league and landing squarely on his ass. The privilege of picking Chiaki up on such occasions was another one afforded Yuu as Chiaki's friend.

But all of that he'd soundly give up for the opportunity to have Chiaki look at him just once the way his heroines looked at their love interests in his manga. For all the high-handed, purple dribble he filled his pages with about love and destiny and all, he'd never shown any desire to engage in it himself. Tori wasn't helping—ever increasing the guy's workload instead of reining him in a bit, giving him some leeway so he wasn't hunched over his drawing desk sixteen hours a day (on a light day).

Still, Yuu didn't entirely regret it—confessing. It was a weight off his shoulders, and now and then he'd catch Chiaki looking at him funny and know that he was reflecting on the fact that Yuu liked him— _liked him_ liked him, liked him _romantically_ , wanted to kiss him (among other things—but Yuu would be surprised if those thoughts had even remotely pinged Chiaki's radar), wanted to touch him, wanted to do couple-y things with him. Chiaki knew, even if he didn't know everything, and still he let his guard down around Yuu.

He knew he should be annoyed with the guy, more than he was, but every time he tried to entertain thoughts of frustration and irritation with respect to his best friend, the image melted and morphed until it was Chiaki napping on the couch in the studio breakroom, or Chiaki staring cutely confused at a blank sheet of drawing paper, or Chiaki lying through his teeth and reassuring Yuu that his soup wasn't too bland at all (the boy had been conditioned to only respond to Hatori's over-spiced palate-blasting cooking over the years). It was a losing battle, trying to not be drawn to Chiaki, to not be overpowered by his charm and succumb to his stupid smile that showed itself at inappropriate times—usually self-deprecatingly when he was about to ask for an extension on another manuscript.

Anyone else would be annoyed by Chiaki, roll their eyes at his unprofessionalism and tell him to shape up, stop depending on others.

Yuu just shrugged, ruffled Chiaki's hair, and fell in love a little more.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, Sensei~" Chiaki glanced up, drafting pencil straying from its path and giving his heroine a moustache. He frowned and felt around for a spare eraser. "What're you doing Friday evening?"

"Eh?" It was Kurihara-san, one of the newer assistants who was still under the impression that he was a hard-working mangaka that never missed a deadline—she was half-right, at least. "Friday? Why?" Fridays were usually the one night a week he dedicated to relaxing and shuffling off the stress that weighed down his shoulders during the week. Well, when he wasn't fending of Tori's griping about another late submission, at least. His Friday's were precious moments—and _no one_ was meant to interrupt him on fear of suffering the wrath of a mangaka deprived his esthe time.

She relaxed against his desk, arms crossed before her and hope clear in her eyes. "Well, we kind of need another guy to round out our group-date numbers, so I figured I'd see if you were free and wanted to come along!" She reached into her pocket and quickly produced a business card, as if she'd been expecting this turn. "It's a nice, low-key place, classy clientele—perfect for a no-pressure _goukon_ , don't you think?" She raised her brows, pressing the card into Chiaki's hand. "What do you think?"

"Ah…" Chiaki started stupidly, staring at the card. A date? A _group_ date? He'd tried one in high school—and it hadn't been very _date_ -like, since Tori and Yuu both seemed to have only come along because Chiaki had asked them, not providing much company for the girls. It had been quite possibly the most awkward night of his life

Oh but—had Yuu liked him back then? Maybe that was why… Now he felt compelled to rethink all of their outings and interactions from middle school on with this new knowledge, certain there had to have been _some_ hint in the past that things would turn out this way.

Kurihara-san tapped her finger on the desk, and Chiaki snapped back to attention. "Oh—I would, but I've already got plans…" This caused the other workers to turn round in their chairs and give him knowing stares. "Wh-what?"

" _Plans_ , Sensei?" Kurihara-san laughed, snatching the card back and shuffling over to her workstation. "Guys only use that excuse when they're invited out because they've already _got_ a date."

"Who's got a date?" Yuu, of course, entering the conversation at just the opportune moment. He started passing out the fruits from his shopping excursion out to the nearest convenience store while waiting to be updated on the gossip the girls had started in his absence.

" _Sensei_ ," Inoue-san chimed in helpfully, giggling at Yuu's confused expression and taking his proffered bottle of jasmine tea with a nod of thanks.

"Th—that's not true! Yuu—tell them it's not; you _know_ me," Chiaki protested, reaching out for his own bottle of tea and frowning when Yuu pulled it just out of his grasp before his fingers could close around it. " _Oi._ "

"I dunno…maybe all this time I haven't really known Chiaki at all!" He crossed his arms and shook his head, pasting on an expression of disappointment and dejection. "I feel like we're total strangers. How could you do this to me, Chiaki? Aren't we best friends? Yet you don't even care for me enough to introduce me to your partner?"

Chiaki flushed darkly at his dramatics, to the laughter of the other assistants, and shot his arm out to roughly snatch up his drink, downing half the contents in one long draw. "Cut it out, geez." He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and glanced around for a spot to set the drink that wouldn't leak condensation onto the manuscript before him. "I don't have a date or anything—I just like to leave my Fridays free."

The others turned to Yuu for confirmation, and he shrugged. "As far as I know."

Kurihara-san slumped back into her chair, dejected, before immediately straightening up again. "Ah—then maybe Yanase-san?"

Yuu slid into his own chair, fanning himself with a small folding fan. "What about me?"

"Group date—Friday evening. Are you free? We need a sixth to even out the sides!"

"Mmm, I dunno," Yuu hedged, but with a sly lilt to his voice rather than genuine uncertainty or hesitation, and he propped his chin up in one palm. "What do I get in return for the pleasure of my company?"

Kurihara-san laughed at his gall. "A date with three attractive women, one of whom may get you laid?" She then realized the implication and flushed, waving her hands in front of her frantically. "Not—me of course. I've seen you in your everyday life; let some other unlucky lady deal with you for an evening."

"As expected of Kurihara-san, you cut straight to the quick!" Yuu mimed being shot in the chest and slumped over his desk to giggles from the rest of the room.

Chiaki, in turn, watched the scene unfold with a strange sense of detachment, thoughts of manga panels and shading far from his mind now, instead replaced with confusion, concern, and above all—a strange sense of irritation almost. Yuu always had an easy rapport with the other assistants no matter where he went. He was the kind of snappy, charismatic guy who never went out of his way to call attention to himself but who nevertheless drew people in. His quiet demeanor threw people off sometimes, for he used it to gather information on those around him, noting details and filling them away for later use.

"Fine, fine," Yuu finally conceded, hands raised in defeat. "Just the one time, though. I've a very busy social schedule, you see," and was greeted with a chorus of unconvinced _heeeh_ s which prompted more arguing.

Chiaki straightened up in place, blinking, and opened his mouth to protest. "Eh? But, Yuu—" before realizing he didn't have a thing to say, only a churning in his gut that disagreed with Yuu's easy acceptance of the offer.

"Hmm?" Yuu's face was…normal. Completely normal, just the same as it always had been. A simple smile, brows lifted in curiosity and hiding no ulterior motives.

"Ah—oh. Nothing," he recovered, laughing nervously. "It's just I thought I'd asked for juice. But tea's fine—thanks for going on a drink run." He took another swig of his drink for show and quickly set back to work, feverishly sketching away and trying to keep his mind firmly tethered on task and not wandering about thinking of Yuu with a girl on either arm and still trying to convince Kurihara-san to reconsider.

* * *

"Good work today," came a chorus of greetings, and Chiaki bowed his thanks to the assistants, sending them off running to catch their respective trains.

He closed his eyes and massaged one shoulder, frowning. Sitting hunched over a drawing desk all day couldn't be good for his back; he was going to wind up with a permanent bend in his spine by the time he was forty at this rate. "Why'd I ever decide to become a mangaka?"

"Because Hatori bullied you into it rather than letting your drawing and story-telling skills go to waste?" Yuu quipped from his station where he stood slowly packing his bag for the evening. "Without him you'd just be—well, me, I guess." He slipped the satchel over one shoulder and shooed Chiaki over to grab his own items. "Chop chop, I'm beat; gonna take a nice long bath when I get home and let my worries melt away~"

Chiaki balked, swallowing. "Na, Yuu…"

"Hm?"

"…You really think that's a good idea?"

"What? A bath?"

Chiaki bristled and rolled his eyes. " _No_. Friday. The _goukon_ with Kurihara-san." He shifted his gaze to the side, suddenly self-conscious, and scratched at the corner of his mouth. "Just, she kind of pushed you into it, and she's really straightforward, so you have to be direct with her or she'll bowl you over, so I thought maybe you weren't used to dealing with her type…"

Yuu cocked his head to the side, innocent confusion evident. "Dealing with her? She didn't press me into anything…" A shrug. "It sounded fun. I wanted to go."

"Eh?!" Chiaki couldn't help the yelp of shock that fell from his lips and quickly reined himself in. "But you're—it's a _group date_." Yuu nodded silently. "And…you don't see anything wrong with it?"

Yuu laughed, but without much mirth, confusion coloring his voice as he tried to lighten the mood. "Not…really? Should I? She needed someone, and you obviously have _something_ going on, which you owe me for covering for you by the way—"

"I said it was nothing, I just didn't want to go. And stop changing the subject!"

"What're you getting worked up for?" he scoffed, brows furrowing, and Chiaki froze. What _was_ he getting worked up for?

"Just…I mean, isn't it kind of, you know…rude?"

"Rude? To who?"

"The—girls! Whoever winds up going on that date!"

Yuu frowned, fists clenching at his side in frustration at Chiaki's attitude. "How is helping out an acquaintance and having a good time being _rude_?"

Chiaki waved a hand, gesturing ambiguously. "Just—you're, you know. _That way_. Right?"

There was a long beat of silence, with Chiaki looking horrified he'd even made reference to Yuu's sexuality and Yuu simply dumbstruck. Then, in a flash, Yuu actually started _laughing_. " _That's_ what you're worried about?"

"Wh—what?" Chiaki was back on the defensive, thrown off by the sudden explosion of laughter. "It's a legitimate concern! You shouldn't lead on a poor girl who's there looking for a potential boyfriend!" Yuu slipped back into his seat, leaning over his desk and trying to get his guffaws under control. "What if she seriously falls in love with you? Isn't that a horrible way to trick a person? At the very least you should be upfront about—"

" _Chiaki_." Yuu's voice was calm, serious, and cut through the air, stoppering Chiaki's babbling in an instant.

"What?"

"You know," he began, grabbing a free pencil and idly scratching out a few sketches on some junk paper. "It's possible to like them both. Guys and girls."

"E— _eh_?"

"You didn't know? That's cute."

"It's not—I mean, I didn't _not_ know, just…" He swallowed thickly. "…You're serious, then?"

Yuu kept his eye trained on his sketch. "Serious?"

"About—the date? Are you seriously going to go and try to pick someone up?"

"Isn't that what you do on group dates?" He smiled to himself. "I'll stay away from Kurihara-san though, I think. Inter-office romances aren't my thing." _Except for you, Chiaki,_ he could hear the unspoken addendum.

Chiaki nodded mutely and turned back to his desk, slowly gathering his things to leave and somehow feeling more torn about the whole thing than before they'd talked. He'd been legitimately concerned—it really wasn't fair to the other girls on the date if one of the guys wasn't even into women, right? So he was right to feel a bit irritated that Yuu had so easily agreed to join the _goukon_ , without a second thought or even a semblance of hesitation. If he wanted to keep his sexuality a secret, that was of course his prerogative, but there was no need to lead on some nice young girl who just wanted to find a nice guy to settle down with, was there?

So why, now, when Yuu had made it clear that he had no problems with women whatsoever…did he still feel like something was wrong? Like Yuu had agreed too quickly, too easily, to have dinner with a group of strangers, maybe take one of those strangers home, have some wine on his couch with one of those strangers, thread his fingers through that stranger's hair and lean forward, covering their lips with his in a soft, hesitant part-smile, part-kiss that would inevitably lead to more? What did it matter if it was a demure, curvy brunette who caught his eye, laughed honestly at his jokes and traded quips with him with ease, what did it matter if she was someone Yuu had never expected to fall in love with—but he did? Wasn't that a great thing? Wasn't that a relief? Of course it was, in a way, but still…

"I won't go." Yuu's voice was soft from right behind Chiaki, but his breath was warm on his neck where he stood, hands braced on Chiaki's shoulders. "If you don't want me to go, I won't."

Chiaki shrugged him off under the pretense of needing to slip around to the other side of the desk to fetch a sketchbook full of angle studies. "Who said anything about not going? That's ridiculous."

"Just say you don't want me to go on the _goukon_. I'll send Kurihara-san a message on the way to the station. Quick and painless."

Chiaki felt his cheeks heat up at the prompt and spent a few extra seconds situating all the items in his bag before slinging it over his shoulder, laughing roughly. "You're not making any sense—why would I say something like that?" He refused to make eye contact with Yuu, instead brushing past him headed towards the door.

"Guess it can't be helped," Yuu sighed, sauntering after him. "I'll tell Kurihara-san I can't make it. Yoshino-sensei's got some extra work he needs freelance help with. I'll have to pass, I suppose."

Chiaki whirled around. " _What_?"

Yuu looped one arm under Chiaki's and dragged him towards the door, a satisfied smile on his face. "You said you didn't want me to go."

"I said _no_ such—"

"I definitely heard it, though," Yuu attested, confident. "I'm good at hearing things Chiaki has trouble saying, you know."

Which made absolutely no sense, yet somehow eased the tightness in Chiaki's chest—which was a completely different problem in and of itself.


	5. Chapter 5

When Chiaki opened the door, he didn't know what he'd been expecting—a door-to-door salesman? The _Za Kan_ hand towel with matching bentou set he'd ordered on a whim a week prior? The housewife from next door needing to borrow a cup of something or another?—but "Yuu with a conbini bag full of snacks, a bottle of wine, and a six-pack of beer" had been fairly far down on the list.

He hadn't _honestly_ expected Yuu to go through with his decision to back out of the _goukon_ he'd promised his attendance at, especially not with so flimsy an excuse as "Chiaki looked hurt," but Kurihara-san had been in a mood the rest of the week and had been glaring daggers at Yuu the entire time, so something must have gone down.

"Well? Aren't you going to invite me in? This stuff's heavy and your elevator's under maintenance right now so I had to lug it up the stairs."

Chiaki didn't move, still gaping at his impromptu guest, and considered the bath he'd been about to take and how his lovely, relaxing bubble bath would have to be postponed indefinitely. Yuu looked ready to drink, and that probably meant he was going to stay over, make Chiaki sleep on the floor, cook a bland Japanese breakfast in the morning, and then beat a hasty retreat just in time to give Chiaki nowhere to turn when Tori came calling around noon to make sure Chiaki didn't waste his weekend _enjoying_ it. He sighed loudly and stepped back, holding the door open.

"Geez, be a little more grateful! Your otherwise boring evening has now increased in excitement by approximately 200% with my arrival." Chiaki raised a brow, dubious, as his friend sauntered in and headed for the kitchen, depositing the bag and booze on the counter. "Besides, you were just gonna take a bath and reread volume 10 of _Za Kan_ for, like, the fifth time, weren't you?"

"Hey—volume 10 was damn good and you know it!"

Yuu raised his hands in defeat, quickly darting around to the other side of the counter for safety as Chiaki stalked forward. "Yes yes, considering we've only discussed it a few _hundred_ times." He raised a brow, hoping for forgiveness, which Chiaki offered by way of starting to dig through the bag and pull out the snacks he wanted to lay claim to.

"You didn't have to come over, though, you know."

"Of course I did," Yuu countered evenly, pulling out a few drawers until he found Chiaki's corkscrew. "I told Kurihara-san that sensei needed a hand finishing up some work, so here I am. You wouldn't want to make a liar out of me, would you?"

Chiaki leaned onto the counter, frowning. "Getting me drunk and ruining my relaxing evening alone is 'work' now?"

"I'm getting drunk _with_ you, though—that's _nomunication_ , Sensei."

Chiaki snatched up the bag and grabbed the six pack before carting them over to the low table in his den, flopping down on the couch to more comfortably pilfer his cut of the snacks—mostly sweets (all for Chiaki's sweet tooth) with a few packets of nuts and some chips to satisfy Yuu. He cracked open one of the beers with a loud hiss of released pressure—grateful that Yuu remembered he didn't really like wine all that much—and downed a large gulp in one draw, sighing satisfactorily when Yuu slipped onto the couch beside him with a wine glass in one hand. "Alcohol's probably man's greatest invention."

"Oh yes. Electricity, indoor plumbing, automobiles and airplanes we could all live without—but depressants made from rotting vegetables? Life just isn't worth living if you can't have _that_." Chiaki elbowed him, and Yuu yelped more in fear he was going to drop his wine than in pain. "Don't be rude to your guest."

"Don't invite yourself over, then."

"I brought presents, didn't I?" Chiaki rolled his eyes and leaned back against the deep cushions, closing his eyes and breathing long and deep. "Rough week?"

"You were there," Chiaki grumbled, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand and letting Yuu take his beer so he could do so with both hands. "And Tori's been making noise about Marukawa setting up a new bimonthly magazine they want me to write a column for. As if I don't have enough on my plate already."

"Well, you _don't_ , really. Comparatively. You just suck at organization and Hatori's too easy on you to make you get your shit together so you could actually _go places_ with your work instead of being stuck writing one genre for one magazine your whole life."

Chiaki let his hands fall away, lifting his head to frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Yuu set the beer and his wine down on the table, leaning back against the cushions himself now and staring up at the ceiling. "Just that I think you can be more than what you are. And that I want to help you do it. So—you should rely on me more."

Chiaki turned back away, frown not moving. "I already rely on you and Tori more than I should."

There was a soft chuckle. "Oh, so you realize it?"

"Of course I realize it. I just can't help it."

"Because you like it. A little bit."

"Doesn't everyone want to be taken care of?"

Yuu shrugged. "I guess, to some extent. But then—" He reached for his wine again. "Some of us just really like taking care of others more."

Chiaki twisted around to stare at him, relaxing against the cushion and feeling a bit sleepy from the comfort and the little alcohol streaming through him now. "Yuu."

"Hm?"

"Why didn't you go on the date?"

Yuu smiled into the lip of his wine glass, pulling it away and swirling the contents. "Told you—I wasn't going to go if you didn't want me to."

"But I never _said_ I didn't—"

"And I never said it had to be aloud, did I?" He locked eyes with Chiaki, suddenly serious. "Besides, what's it matter? It's more fun spending an evening with my best friend than a bunch of strangers anyways."

"How do you know that, though? Maybe one of them would be someone you really liked after you got to know them, maybe you missed the chance to meet someone who—"

" _Geez_ , Chiaki. Just give it a rest, would you?" He laughed the exasperated entreaty, but there was little mirth to it, and Chiaki sensed he'd touched a nerve. "I thought about it and decided I didn't want to go after all. Nothing wrong with that, right?"

"No, but…" Chiaki began, then trailed off as he realized he had no effective argument either way, and reached for his beer. "Just seems like it wouldn't have hurt…"

He could feel Yuu watching him for a long while in silence, and it quickly became uncomfortable, to the point that Chiaki started going through potential topics of conversation in his mind, from the weather to recent sports victories on the international circuit to upcoming movies that they needed to make plans to go see. He opened his mouth, an idle comment about making plans to rent something the next weekend, but Yuu cut him off with a confession: "I didn't go because—you were right."

Chiaki's mouth hung open for a moment before he managed to rearrange his thoughts, and his voice was stiff and strained. "I—what?"

"You were right. The other day, when we spoke in the studio." Chiaki wracked his brain to try and remember what he said, and as if sensing his confusion, Yuu continued, "That it wasn't fair to the others who came along, hoping for someone to hook up with, get to know better, maybe go on other dates with."

Chiaki, frowned, considering his own argument from before. "Well, yeah that's true but… I guess it's also rude not to even give it a chance. I mean—stranger things have happened, right? It's not like you couldn't fall for—"

"I couldn't," Yuu interrupted, point blank, and Chiaki found himself choked off by the conviction of his words. "I turned down the invitation because I couldn't fall for someone else there, man or woman. So it wouldn't have been fair."

"But—how can you—?"

"Know?" Yuu's voice was calm, but the quick cutoff silenced Chiaki's protests, and he sighed softly and reached forward for the wine bottle to top off his glass, taking a sip and grimacing before continuing. "I just do." There was a stretch of silence, Chiaki not choosing to press the matter any further but continuing to watch Yuu with questioning eyes, letting him know that he didn't think the issue closed at all.

Yuu took a deep breath, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, his back curved and shoulders tight with tension. "I think…yeah, I'll probably always love you." He took a sip to wash down the admission. "So maybe—later. After a while, it'll be fine. But just not now. Sorry for trying to blame it on you."

Chiaki's fingers were numb from clutching the chilled beer can, but he couldn't bring himself to care so much for that when his best friend was sitting here like this, not casual and confident and spilling out a confession like he was ordering a drink at an upscale bar, but hunched over with a half-finished bottle of wine before him with no masks or dismissive smiles that _You don't have to say anything, I just wanted to get it off my chest_. Chiaki had never been in love before; it looked like it hurt a lot.

"You didn't…blame it on me," he offered feebly, not sure how to respond to anything else Yuu had said. "I understood enough." Yuu snorted softly, and Chiaki swallowed a lump in his throat. "…Yuu."

"Hm?"

"Why do you love me?" Yuu looked up, alarmed, and his cheeks were flushed with what Chiaki suspected was less the wine and more confused bewilderment at being confronted about what was supposed to be a taboo topic. Chiaki laughed softly to try to diffuse the seriousness, passing the beer can from one hand to the other. "I mean—you don't have to answer if you don't want to, it's not a big deal. I'm mostly just curious, cause…I guess I don't really see why anyone would want to…"

He trailed off, unable to put into words the warring feelings in his mind, the confused mess he'd become since being forced to view Yuu in a non-platonic light, regardless of how he himself felt. It wasn't fair really—and it left him feeling frustrated and irritated that Yuu could go on treating Chiaki how he'd always treated him whereas now Chiaki had to completely readjust his field of vision.

Yuu downed the rest of his glass in one long draw. "You're a hell of a lot more special than you probably think, you know. You're talented, smart, positive-thinking, have a decent head for business, a relatively good work ethic, you're attractive—" Chiaki flushed more at this compliment than any of the others. "—And even when your friend told you he was in love with you, you didn't freak out and push him away." His shoulders shook with soft laughter. "If I hadn't been in love with you before, I certainly would've fallen for you then."

Chiaki deflated; that didn't help him sort through this mess at all. Those were all perfectly normal reasons to like someone, and Chiaki could just as easily say that he admired most all of those things about Yuu as well, but he didn't feel that same stab of dull pain in his chest that it looked like Yuu suffered whenever he opened himself up like this. "…How do you know when you love someone, then?"

He could feel Yuu's eyes on him, but he turned his head to stare at the floor, not particularly wanting to see what was written on his face. "…You're full of questions tonight."

"You don't have to answer them," Chiaki reminded, a nervous quaver in his voice that he disguised with a cough. "But it's not like I know anyone else who's in love with someone, so I'm just—curious is all."

"Fair enough…" Yuu allowed evenly. "I guess…when you feel like you could be happy if it were just you and that person all by yourselves for the rest of your life, when you find yourself thinking about them at odd times or wondering what they're doing. You get this weird feeling in your chest when you see them, your heart beats a little faster and you have to work to stay calm and collected around them—"

Chiaki looked up, brows knit in confusion. "You're always fine around me, though!"

"I've had a long time to practice. Also, you're pretty oblivious. It's cute." Chiaki glanced away again, frowning. "And…when the idea of them returning all of those feelings makes you feel like you could just die from happiness. I guess that's a good indication." He reached for the bottle and poured a new glass; Chiaki could see his hands shaking.

Chiaki licked his lips; were those just some of the indicators? Or did it all have to be true? What if your heart didn't really beat faster, but you still got a little twinge in your chest now when the other person flirted with someone (even if they'd always behaved that way)? What if you didn't really picture yourself and them holding hands and hobbling through a quiet, neighborhood park at 80, but you still found yourself wondering what they might think of a funny advertisement you saw on a train or whether or not they'd approve of your conbini dinner that most definitely didn't involve any of the major food groups (unless "fried food" was a new one you hadn't heard of)?

How big a part did attraction play in all of this? Chiaki hadn't had a girlfriend in…a long time. Definitely no one he'd gone out with on more than a few occasions; no one he could claim to have really _dated_ in recent memory. So it was hard to remember that feeling of excitement and nervousness, hard to remember what was simple worry over losing a friend and what was fear of the unknown, stepping into a field he'd never considered before.

He'd never thought of guys like that, let alone _Yuu_ —but…if that was all that was keeping him from considering the merits of trying to give Yuu what he so obviously wanted more than even he was willing to admit, then…wasn't he being a bit unfair in not even trying? It wasn't as if he had to go… _all_ the way, right? Just…small steps?

He took a shuddering breath. "Na, Yuu."

"Hm?" So calm, disaffected. It wasn't fair. He deserved to be ruffled.

"Kiss me."

Yuu choked on his wine, coughing violently, and nearly broke the stem of the wine glass setting it onto the low coffee table. He banged his chest to ensure everything went down correctly and then wiped at his mouth, frowning. " _What_?"

"You obviously heard me." Chiaki made fists in the material of his pajama pants, focusing on the floor again. "Just…I'm confused. About a lot of things right now, and I thought maybe… Maybe if you kiss me, I'll figure some things out. It can't hurt at least…" There, thoughts more or less logically laid out, and Yuu hardly had any reason to turn down Chiaki willingly suggesting that they do something he was pretty sure Yuu had wanted to do for a long time.

There was a long beat of silence, and in his mind, Chiaki could already hear Yuu's voice, rougher and deeper than before with some emotion he couldn't identify, agreeing, complying, could feel a finger feather light tipping his chin up and _oh_ there was that accelerating heartbeat he'd mentioned, but this was—

"…No."

Chiaki drew back to the present, blinking a few times in rapid succession. "…What?" He snapped back up straight, shifting around to face Yuu properly. "But—why not?"

Yuu's frown softened into one less of disappointment and more of resignation. "…If I kiss you, I'll get serious. It's hard enough treating you like I've always treated you, so if I did that…" He shook his head.

Chiaki bristled at the rejection, more annoyed than he'd honestly expected to be. "Then—how am I supposed to know?" Yuu flinched, but Chiaki was too caught up in his own confusion now to care. "You're the only one who can help me here; it's not like I can just ask anyone to do that sort of thing—"

Yuu released a harsh bark of laughter, quickly covering his mouth to hide the smile that was curling at the corners of his lips. "You could always ask Hatori."

"I'm _serious_ —how do you expect me to get everything straight in my head and just dive into something if I can't—"

"That's not my problem," Yuu snapped shortly, temper obviously mounting, and he ran a hand through his hair. "You're being unreasonable asking something like that just to satisfy your own curiosity." The tension in the room was tangible, and after a moment's silence, he shrugged and sighed loudly. "We shouldn't be talking about this anyways, Chiaki." He reached out and placed a hand on Chiaki's shoulder, warm and comforting and nothing like what Chiaki wanted from him right now. "Let's just turn in early—I promise I won't steal the bed from you if you'll pull out some bedding for me."

Patient, patronizing, platonic as he seemed determined to stay. Chiaki rolled his shoulder, sharply throwing off Yuu's touch, and in a flash snapped both hands out to grab at the collar of Yuu's shirt, jerking him forward until he tumbled closer and pressing their lips together. He squinted his eyes shut desperately, and on feeling warm contact, soft dry lips beneath his own, he worked at turning the touch into a proper kiss, tentative and exploratory and not entirely _not_ enjoyable at all—

He felt Yuu's hands come up, palms splayed flat against his chest before violently shoving him backwards, sending him scrambling to the edge of the couch. "What—the _fuck_ , Chiaki?!" He brought a hand to his mouth, covering his lips as if wary Chiaki might try again if not physically impeded, and his cheeks were flushed with shame and anger, eyes narrowed. "What the—what the hell?!"

"I—" Chiaki started dumbly, staring at the space between them. "I just—it was just a kiss, I told you—"

He let the hand drop slowly, clenching it into a fist. "You don't fucking kiss people without their permission—especially not when they've _explicitly told you_ they _don't_ want to kiss you!"

"But—I just…I thought since you—"

"What, that since I like you, of course I'd want to kiss you?" He rolled off the couch and glanced around for the bag he'd brought, spotting it and quickly slinging it over his shoulder, adjusting the straps. He whirled around to face Chiaki, shaking a finger accusingly. "That—was low. Horrible, and mean, and not like you at all. You don't mess with people's feelings like that, especially not your friends'. I am—" He cut himself off and shook his head, turning on his heel and heading for the door. With one hand on the handle, he ground out. "I tell you I'm seriously in love you, and you use that to clear your own head? I expected better from you."

He yanked the door open and stormed out, letting it slam with a sick thud behind him. Chiaki remained motionless on his couch for several long moments afterward, in stark silence.

Yuu had never mentioned that the weird feeling in your chest was supposed to hurt this much.


	6. Chapter 6

Being in love fucking sucked.

It wasn't the first time Yuu had entertained such a thought, and given that Yuu's feelings revolved around possibly the most oblivious, painfully air-headed shoujo mangaka in the Kantou region, it likely would not be the last time either.

The worst part was—it hadn't been a horrible kiss. If Yuu stepped back, out of his own skin, and tried to look at the whole horrifically _wrong_ situation with an objective eye, he might comment that sure, Chiaki was a little out of practice (and obviously hadn't a clue what to do with his tongue) and a lot over-eager, but his technique—unpolished though it might have been—was something Yuu was familiar with, something he'd watched grow in the guy's manga for years, honest desire and effort molded into results that took your breath away.

Except Yuu couldn't do that—couldn't step back and remove himself from the situation and look at it all with a critical eye and make these cold, calculating comments. Instead, he was curled up in his own genkan, too defeated to even remove his own shoes and jacket, to strip down and burrow into his bed and just sleep away the humiliation. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Chiaki, confused and hurt and cheeks a little flushed from the kiss, genuinely contrite and yet still so painfully blind to how much his actions had cost Yuu.

It had been hard enough being with Chiaki, day in and day out, harboring such secret feelings; he didn't have a clue how Hatori had managed it for nearly 30 years when Yuu had popped in half that time. But now, to have Chiaki doing such unnecessary things like _considering_ returning Yuu's feelings, when he thought he'd made it abundantly clear that he neither expected nor hoped for such a thing—it had proven more trouble than it was worth. In spades.

Chiaki was Chiaki; he wasn't someone Yuu was supposed to genuinely believe he could be with. He was supposed to be this unattainable goal, an unreachable hideaway that Yuu could love, could admire from afar while still enjoying his friendship, his warmth at his side.

But it was hard to be content with all of these things when Chiaki went on about being _confused_ and _considering things_ —this wasn't something you mulled over for a few days and decided sure, what the hell, let's try a relationship and see how that goes. Chiaki was clueless in so many ways—had no idea that if he opened himself up and took on the full force of Yuu's love for him, he would absolutely _break_. He would look upon what Yuu had to offer and be overwhelmed, would realize no, he couldn't handle this, couldn't change himself or contort his platonic affections into something remotely resembling true, romantic _love_. And he would run away or withdraw or paste on a smile, let Yuu hold his hand when no one was looking, and all the while be considering how best to let Yuu down gently. _"I'm sorry, Yuu—I really am! I_ want _to love you like you love me. Just…"_ Just.

He twisted and angled his feet underneath him, managing to ease himself up into a squat and then full standing, brushing himself off and shaking his head while he removed his outerwear.

Hatori was smart. He'd figured out how to live with Chiaki, how to bear him and his neediness that begged to be cared for, how to navigate his selfish mannerisms with a firm hand that didn't turn away. Maybe if Yuu had hardened his heart like that instead of all the time indulging Chiaki with a smile and bright eyes, he wouldn't be standing here in his empty apartment still unable to forget the warmth of Chiaki's lips—a warmth he wouldn't have had to try to forget before tonight. Ignorance was truly bliss.

Maybe he could manage it now; maybe he could take a leaf from Hatori's book and close himself off, be the reliable but stern friend that Chiaki needed and less the indulging, forgiving one he wanted.

Maybe eventually he could forget that in the end, Chiaki had been the one to kiss _him_ , and that somehow that meant something.

* * *

"…You look like shit." It was the nicest thing anyone had said to Chiaki all day.

He didn't understand how Tori could really make such an assessment, since Chiaki felt like half the meetings he had with the guy took place under less-than-ideal work quotas such that Chiaki always managed to look like, well, _shit_ whenever they met. If he hadn't known the guy his entire life, Chiaki might feel embarrassed at always showing this side of himself to his friend, but as it was, he didn't figure there was any state Tori could see him in now that would change their relationship.

He responded to this astute observation by letting his forehead bang against the edge of the table, groaning in both pain and frustration with himself. "I know. So hurry up and tell me how crappy my panels are so I can get back home and fix them."

Hatori raised a brow, the only sign of his amusement at Chiaki's horrific state, and sighed. "Unfortunately, I can't do that; you seem to somehow have managed to produce work of decent quality this time around. I've made a few minor edits, some suggestions to change around dialogue here and there—but you can continue on with what you've got so far. I see no major issues that need addressing."

Chiaki's head shot up, a slight blush staining his cheeks; it was the closest thing he'd heard to a compliment from Tori in ages. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the niggling thought that perhaps he was only cutting Chiaki some slack because, as Tori'd mentioned, he looked like shit—but Tori also wouldn't do something as dangerous as tell an author that their work was fine to continue onto the next stage of development with if it patently _wasn't_ , so…this meant something.

He gingerly reached across the table, taking up the proffered stack of storyboard pages, and nodded his thanks. "I should have most of the stuff inked by Friday, so you can come by in the afternoon to pick them up…" Silence, and when he glanced up again, he found Tori staring at him, stomach turning in guilt. "…What?"

Tori leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands. "Didn't I tell you you look like shit?"

Chiaki bristled. "Yeah, so? It's not like it's a big deal; I've been working hard lately." He tapped the stack of papers. "I can't just pull awesomeness like this out of my ass, you know."

"Don't get too cocky," Tori frowned, reaching for his coffee. "I didn't say it was error-free. And I've got a good feeling that most of the bits I didn't have to mark too harshly were done by an assistant." He took a calm sip. "At least they can do their work properly. Your mistakes stand out like neon signs."

Chiaki angrily stuffed the papers into his bag. "Fine—maybe I'll just leave all the work to them next time!"

"Don't get pissy, Yoshino," Tori cautioned, keeping his voice even and glancing around the cafe to be sure they weren't attracting too much attention with Chiaki's display. "You're in a fouler mood than usual, considering I've hardly given you any critique."

Chiaki slumped against the tall back of his chair, stirring his latte with a small spoon and trying to look disaffected—nearly always impossible when it came to Tori. "So what, are you going to pester me until I tell you what's wrong?"

"I wasn't planning on it, no."

Chiaki's frown turned even more sour. "You don't even care the slightest bit why I look like I haven't taken a shower in two days—"

"—Three, I'd say, from the smell of it."

"—And why I've got bags under my eyes and am skin and bones even though I actually put out a decent product relatively well under the deadline this time? Hmm?" Tori just kept sipping his coffee, until Chiaki could stand it no longer and banged his fist on the table, throat growing tight. "Because I'm an asshole, Tori. That's why."

He was breathing hard, and Hatori let him stew for a minute before responding evenly with, "Is this the part where I'm supposed to tell you that's not true and rock you to sleep?" Chiaki's glare was harsh, but Hatori ignored it and began gathering his things, reaching for the check. "If you're quite done with this self-flagellation, I've got a sales meeting at 2 for—" Chiaki interrupted with some muffled confession, lost to Hatori's ears between the dull drone of the cafe and Chiaki's own mumbling tone. "—What?"

A sigh. "I said—" he grit out, "—I _kissed_ Yuu."

Hatori slipped ungracefully back into the chair he'd just risen from, breath caught in his throat. "…You… _what_?" Chiaki just shrank in on himself, averting his gaze and bracing for the coming lecture. "That— _when_?"

"Few days ago…" was the mumbled reply. "He came over to my place Friday night and—"

Hatori sighed loudly, wiping his face. "And you let a guy who's told you he's in love with you into your apartment, alone? Are you an _idiot_?" He didn't give Chiaki a chance to refute this. "Don't answer that; it's a rhetorical question. You are."

Chiaki flushed with shame, and he bit out in a hiss, "He's—Yuu! We've known him since middle school! Just because he had a crush on me didn't mean I was just going to—cut ties with him. Anyways, you _told_ me to treat him like normal—"

Hatori shook a finger in his face. "I told you to not let it affect your work; I'd say this is going to have a pretty damned big impact on your manga." He opened and closed his mouth a few more times before continuing, as if unsure of just what he wanted to rant about next and all too conscious of their surroundings. " _Why_? Why would you do that? I'm assuming that you look like shit because it didn't go over well?"

Chiaki flinched, then nodded slowly. "Just…ever since he confessed, I've felt like…I should really consider it. Because it's Yuu—and he deserves a serious answer after serious consideration, not just…me opening my mouth and saying the first thing that comes to my mind when someone you never expect to feel that way confesses to you." He chanced a glance up at Tori, trying to express his sincerity. "I mean—if it'd been you, I'd have done the same thing, see?" Tori shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. "I really…meant to do it right. I meant to give it thought, but…the more I thought about it, about what it felt like when I thought about Yuu liking me and whether or not I could ever see myself feeling the same way, I just got _more_ confused, and I just thought maybe…"

Hatori sighed long-sufferingly, massaging his temples. "…You thought the only thing an idiot like you _would_ think: that maybe if you kissed him, you'd settle your feelings and be able to give him a straight answer." Chiaki nodded silently. "…You're such an oblivious little air-head."

"Tell me something I haven't been reminding myself of for the past 72 hours…"

"Well it obviously hasn't sunk in," Tori snapped. "He's been trying to separate his feelings for you from his professional work—as he should—and it was going just fine until you screwed it up for personal reasons. I take it he's avoiding any contact with you?"

"Erm—well, yeah… I tried calling him, and I must've texted him a dozen times, and he's had a sub fill in at the studio for the past two days, so…"

"Hmph. Sounds about right. I'd probably do the same if the person I loved treated my feelings as flippantly as you did his."

"But—I wasn't trying to be _flippant_ , I just wasn't thinking—"

"And _that_ is why you look like shit right now." Tori grabbed his things again, this time making a hastier exit than before, and shot Chiaki a dark look. "You didn't think. You've been stewing over all this useless crap about _should you_ or _shouldn't you_ and didn't give a second's thought as to how hard he was working so that you didn't have to make that choice at all. You want to have some crisis of sexuality, that's your business; but don't use other people to solve it, and don't you dare let it affect your deadlines." He buttoned his suit jacket with a sniff and turned to leave, before pausing and pivoting on his heel to regard Chiaki. "…Yanase's usually home on Tuesdays, to catch reruns of _Ururun_. He's a damned good assistant, so you'd better fix this."

As if Chiaki needed to be told _that_.


	7. Chapter 7

It took Chiaki a full eight minutes standing in front of Yuu's door before he worked up the courage to mash the buzzer.

He'd killed time in a manga cafe after parting ways with Tori, who had seemed to be glad to be rid of Chiaki and his need for advice on how to un-fuck his relationship with Yuu, but even a few hours surrounded by the comforting silence of a glorified library in comfortable chairs with a stack of the latest shounen craze at his side hadn't done much to calm Chiaki, and he'd cut his time short by a half hour to just walk around and try to clear his head.

What exactly was he planning to do, assuming Yuu was even home—and assuming that if he was home, he let Chiaki through the front door? Apologize—say he was sorry (a few dozen times), promise to never do it again, reflect on how he hadn't considered Yuu's personal feelings on the matter and that he understood how rude the gesture had been if it didn't hold the meaning it should…and hope for the best? Chiaki's better senses told him that Yuu had forgiven him for graver mistakes before—like that time he'd blamed the racy magazine stuffed under his mattress on Yuu because he hadn't wanted to fess up to needing it to study female body angles (that was worse than this, right?)—and so of course in the end he'd forgive Chiaki for this slight as well, but…

Still another part of him ate away at Chiaki guiltily, reminding him that this wasn't just getting caught with a dirty magazine, this was playing with someone's emotions, the feelings of someone he cared deeply for and who might not be able to look at him the same way any more.

What if—Yuu stopped loving him? What if now that he saw how lightly Chiaki treated the idea of being in love with someone, that it really wasn't worth the effort? What if he realized he'd only been in love with this idea of Chiaki, a fantasy fun friend who was all the time cheerful and witty and good for a chat, and who was nothing like the man Chiaki really was, deep down? Maybe Yuu'd been viewing him all these years through infatuation-colored glasses and now that he'd been burned, he'd realize Chiaki wasn't a worthy object of affection after all, if he'd do something like kiss out of curiosity.

Wasn't that for the best, though? If Yuu stopped feeling that way about him, maybe they could eventually go back to just being normal friends; it wasn't as if Chiaki had kissed away his enjoyment of _Za Kan_ or stupid gag manga, or as if Yuu's talents as an assistant remotely depended upon him having feelings for Chiaki, so…they could totally still salvage this. Right?

Chiaki stared at the buzzer beside Yuu's door, frowning—as if all his problems could be traced back to it. Yuu was inside, probably sprawled out on his couch and trying to distract himself from Chiaki, kissing, Chiaki kissing him, and anything that involved Chiaki and his lips with respect to Yuu. Or maybe, Chiaki reflected, he wasn't thinking of that at all; maybe he was too full of himself, assuming that Yuu couldn't effectively pick himself back up and dust himself off. After all, just because Chiaki had been a complete wreck after Yuu'd run off didn't mean that Yuu himself wasn't mature enough to brush off the gesture and focus on something else while waiting for Chiaki to drag himself over to apologize.

Speaking of apologizing… Chiaki swallowed thickly and raised a trembling finger, working to muster his strength before pressing down on the buzzer, eyes clenched tight as he waited.

_"Yes?"_

He coughed softly, clearing his throat and trying to sound nonchalant. "Ah—hey. It's me." He added more hesitantly, as if it weren't obvious, "Chiaki…"

A long pause. _"…I'm busy."_

Chiaki laughed lightly, trying to interject a bit of levity. " _Ururun_ , right? I heard from Tori you've been into it lately…" When Yuu didn't reply for a few beats, he continued. "I—I'm sorry if I'm interrupting, but I really wanted to talk, so…"

_"It's rude to just show up at someone's apartment without warning, you know."_

"Well—" Chiaki bristled, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be here apologizing, "—I didn't think it'd do any good trying to contact you. You aren't answering my phone calls or replying to my text messages." No response. "I—came to apologize, Yuu!" Still nothing, and Chiaki wondered for a harrowing moment if Yuu was going to just ignore him forever now, treat him like he would treat any other selfish, annoying, needy mangaka who asked his assistants for more than they could provide and who relied on others so much he became unable to do anything for himself. " _Please_ , Yuu!" He added with a defiant set to his jaw, "…If you don't let me in, I'll stand here all night and just apologize into the intercom!"

A moment later, he heard the bolt give way and the latch clatter off its rails as Yuu pushed the door open, ugly frown marring his features. "Geez, get your ass in here and stop making a racket; you're gonna get me reported to the landlady." He reached out a hand and bodily dragged Chiaki inside by the wrist, glancing furtively around the landing while Chiaki removed his shoes before pulling the door shut behind them.

After padding into the living area following Yuu, Chiaki stood awkwardly in the doorway while Yuu flopped back on the couch and went back to watching his muted television. The silence stretched for several long moments, and Chiaki eventually sighed to himself and opened his mouth to speak. "Yuu, I—"

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here, you know."

"…Eh?"

He could see, even from across the room, that Yuu was flushing with anger or some other emotion. "I thought ignoring your calls and texts and sending a sub in would be a pretty good indication I really didn't want to talk to you right now, but I guess that's just Chiaki being Chiaki and ignoring the feelings of other people so that he can settle his own guilt and confusion, hm?" He shot a glance over at Chiaki, daring him to refute it.

"I didn't…" he started pathetically, but his shoulders slumped in defeat. "…You're telling me I've already screwed up my apology?"

"I'm telling you you've already screwed up your apology," Yuu parroted evenly, then sighed and turned back to the television. "…But I hardly expected different from you." He snatched up the remote and turned off the screen. "Get in here and sit down. You're making it hard to talk just standing around."

Chiaki shuffled warily over to the couch, sliding down onto the far end—which admittedly wasn't all that far from Yuu, being that the thing was a loveseat. He dropped his bag off to the side and eased out of the light coat he'd donned, suddenly feeling the closeness of the air in Yuu's apartment. He hadn't come over in ages—definitely not since Yuu had confessed—and being here now, he felt a bit out of his element, all too aware of the fact that it was just him and Yuu. Suddenly Tori's worried reprimand about putting himself in a position where it was just Chiaki and a guy who had admitted he was in love with Chiaki, alone, popped into his mind. At Chiaki's own place—it was different; he felt in control, in his element. But here…

"So?"

"Eh?"

"Your apology?"

"But, I thought…" he started pathetically, but lost his nerve when Yuu rolled his eyes and turned his gaze away, focusing on some other point in the room and pointedly ignoring Chiaki. "…I'm sorry."

"For?"

"For…for—kissing you?"

"And why are you sorry for that?"

Chiaki flushed. "Be—because, well. Because—it wasn't nice?"

"I thought it was quite nice."

"I'm trying to be serious here!" Chiaki finally snapped, irritation peaking, and he was somewhat pleased that Yuu flinched and pulled away, cheeks coloring as he stared at Chiaki in confused shock at the tone. "You're perfectly entitled to be angry with me—but if you're not even going to _listen_ to me apologize with an open mind, then why the hell did you let me through the door?"

Yuu blinked a few times before lowering his gaze. "…Sorry. Go on."

Chiaki steeled himself, renewing his efforts. "I know that…I was wrong. For a lot of reasons. I was wrong to ignore how you might feel by doing what I did, wrong to only think about settling my own feelings and not what the consequences of my actions might be. And I really do—feel horrible, you know. It's hard to understand how you might feel about me, so I tend to do stupid things without reflecting on how it might affect you. Or—I overthink things and focus on little details and lose sight of the bigger picture. Just—" He clenched his fists in the material of his pants. "—You know I wouldn't play with your feelings like that, right? I wouldn't sit here feeling this horrible if I didn't honestly care about you and understand what an asshole move that was…"

He trailed off, losing track of his train of thought and realizing it wasn't helping to just keep repeating over and over an endless string of apologies. Yuu either would or wouldn't accept it, and that was that.

After another long stretch of silence, Yuu sighed. "…Thank you. For apologizing." Chiaki's stomach turned; he hadn't expected to be forgiven this easily. Or at all, really—not deep down. "…To tell the truth, I really don't like being mad at you." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "You look so pitiful, it shakes my resolve."

Chiaki frowned at the light-hearted tone. "But—you had every right to be angry with me. What I look like shouldn't matter…"

"Unfortunately, it does. Because I love you. So—there's really no getting around it." He settled his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. "…I understand that you've got a lot on your mind, trying to understand my feelings for you, but…" He glanced over at Chiaki, eyes dark again. "…Please don't kiss me like that ever again."

What _like that_ meant was unclear, but Chiaki swallowed thickly and nodded nevertheless, and Yuu relaxed a hair, relief evident in the loosened tension of his shoulders. He let himself fall back against the cushions of the couch. "…Good." He took a deep breath and released it in succession. "I think I'm gonna heat up some leftover stew; you want some?" He didn't wait for Chiaki to respond, just pushed himself up and headed for the kitchen.

Chiaki snapped a hand out to grab his wrist. "Wait—what?"

Yuu glanced down at Chiaki's grip, raising a brow. "…Stew? From last night? I'm hungry, so…?"

"But—that's it?" He released Yuu's wrist and coughed softly. "That's…all?"

Yuu turned to face him fully now, and Chiaki grew conscious of the subtle tension that threaded itself through Yuu's muscles again, as if he were readying for a fight. "…I thought it was. Unless you had something else to discuss?"

Chiaki dropped his gaze, suddenly shy and ashamed in front of Yuu. "Well, just…I know I was in the wrong to kiss you, but…I was serious. And my own feelings haven't changed; I still don't know how I feel or—or—"

"Chiaki." Yuu's voice was surprisingly even, where Chiaki's was cracking and breathy and wavering embarrassingly. "…Just—forget about the other day, okay?"

"Eh?"

"Let's just…" He shook his head. "Let's just go back to normal, okay? Stop thinking about me and focus on your work. I'm just an assistant; one who happens to be a friend, but that's it. And you're just…Chiaki. My helpless best friend who complains about my cooking when he should be grateful anyone's feeding his skinny ass for free anyways." He forced a smile. "It's better that way, see?"

Chiaki knew he probably looked pathetic, and hated that that might very well affect Yuu's replies to his suggestions. "I understand what you're saying, but…" He swallowed and took a breath. "I don't know…if I can go back to that."

Yuu groaned, sinking onto the couch. "Dammit, Chiaki…"

"Just—listen to me, would you?" He tried to frame his argument in his head. "You may not like it—I certainly don't—but I can't just…stop knowing that you feel how you feel. And that means I worry about it; not because it weirds me out or I don't like it, but because I just…feel bad. That you have to force yourself to still be around me when it must hurt." Yuu didn't refute this, which unsettled Chiaki more than he let on. "It's distracting. And confusing, like I told you. And the worst thing is that there's nothing I can do about it."

Yuu leaned back against the cushions, rubbing his eyes as if the whole conversation were tiring him out. "Then what the hell are we supposed to do?"

Chiaki stood and shuffled over to stand directly in front of Yuu, so that he had to face him. "…Let's try it."

"Try _what_?"

"Try…dating."

Of all the reactions he'd expected from Yuu when those words left his mouth, being greeted with raucous laughter was probably at the bottom of the list. "Are you _insane_? You're fucking with me, right?"

"I'm—of course not!" Chiaki bristled, fists balling at his sides. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

"No, you don't," Yuu replied, much calmer. "But I figured that was just another indication that you've completely gone off the rails. Seriously—a, what, _trial period date_?"

"Aren't most dates 'trials'?" Chiaki countered. "To see if you're compatible enough for a relationship?"

Yuu didn't have a witty retort to counter this argument, and his frown deepened, gaze narrowing when he brought it up to meet Chiaki's. "…Do you have any idea what you're suggesting?"

Chiaki hoped this wasn't a trick question. "I…think I do? I'm serious at any rate."

"…You dragged yourself all the way over here to apologize for kissing me to try and confirm your feelings. And now you want to do _almost the exact same thing_?" Chiaki's stomach dropped and he suddenly felt very sick. "I'm not your board to bounce ideas off of, to try and get some handle on your feelings!" He ran his hands through his hair. "I'm a human being who has human emotions, and I'm in love with a stupid idiot who won't just leave well enough alone! I don't— _need_ you to feel the same way, I don't even want you to consider it at this point! I just want to go back to the way—"

"And I told you I can't! It's got to be this—it's the only way forward now!"

" _No_." Yuu stood up, rounding on him, and shook a finger in his face. "You know why? Because: because we'll do this, we'll go on a date like you're suggesting, maybe two for good measure, and then you'll realize that there's nothing _to_ understand, because there _are_ no feelings for you to get a handle on. But by that point, it'll be too late for me, and I'll be even worse off than before." He brushed past Chiaki, who was staring at him dumbfounded, and started to pace the room. "You can't ask me to do that, Chiaki. You can't get a guy's hopes up like that."

Chiaki's voice was small when he found it moments later. "…Well we're screwed either way. At least my way there's a chance things might work out for the best." Yuu released a harsh bark of laughter, devoid of mirth. "You—maybe you don't realize it, but a romantic relationship is just…friendship plus physical stuff, right?" He gestured vaguely with his hands, trying to organize his thoughts. "Isn't the person you're dating or married to supposed to be your best friend or something? We've got that already, then. And I—I think I'm pretty good at kissing and…stuff. And—" He gestured now in Yuu's direction, trying to ignore the way Yuu was blankly staring at him, completely deadpan. "And—you're probably pretty good too, so…" He trailed off, thoughts leaving him once again.

"Of course I am," Yuu managed after a moment. "I'm an amazing kisser—when I actually _want_ to kiss someone, at least."

Chiaki forced a chuckle. "S-see? It wouldn't be so—"

" _Geez_ , you're thick." He crossed his arms and sauntered back over to Chiaki, still frowning and radiating irritation, but no longer quite so seemingly angry. "A relationship is more than just being friends and kissing, you know." He made a face, as if he'd swallowed something vile. "I don't want a— _fuck-buddy_." And here, _Chiaki_ made a face, skin going white and feeling as if he were about to faint at the suggestion. Yuu actually laughed at the reaction, almost genuinely amused. "Look at you. The mere suggestion has you almost fainting dead away." He shook his head. "You want to try being in a relationship when you can't even stomach the idea of sex with—"

"It's not—" Chiaki cut him off before he could finish, flushing violently. "It's not that—just, of course I'd react that way if you suggest that kind of thing! But that's because I've never really…really had that sort of relationship with _anyone_." He glanced away, scratching the side of his mouth self-consciously. "It's not cause it's you or because it's with a guy or anything like that." Not that either of those ideas—sex with another guy, sex with _Yuu_ —didn't unsettle him more than just a little as well. Still, Yuu hardly needed to hear that right now.

"Heh…" Yuu drawled, dubious, and Chiaki grew wary at the familiar tone Yuu liked to take when he knew someone was talking shit. "So you'd be…perfectly fine then if, say, I said that I wanted to touch you…" He stepped in close, quickly and quietly, and Chiaki stifled a gasp and willed himself not to flinch. Yuu was testing him—in an admittedly unfair manner—but Chiaki couldn't give in. "Or that…I wanted to do more." He ghosted his fingers along Chiaki's bare arm, drawing goosebumps, and continued to trail them up his bicep, over his shoulder, up his neck, until he crooked one under his chin and tipped his head up to look into Yuu's eyes. "…Because I do want that, Chiaki. I told you I love you; this is part of my love. I want to do all of that with you." He let his hand drop away, but Chiaki's head didn't move. "…But only if _you_ want it just as badly."

"Yuu…" And Chiaki knew, deep down, that he had a perfectly valid point. Relationships were friendships with physical components, but…that was hardly all they were, no matter how Chiaki might have wanted to simplify it. To suggest that they could have a romantic relationship without the _romance_ was ludicrous—he could hear Yuu in his head, lecturing: _It's two people loving each other; it's not enough for just one to do all the loving_. He swallowed, wishing his lips weren't so dry. "…Then make me."

Yuu took a mental and physical step backwards. "…What?"

Chiaki was resolute, and repeated with only a slight quaver to his voice to reveal that he honestly had no idea what he was suggesting, only that his mouth was running away with him. "Make me want it too, then." Yuu's expression started to shift back to that dark corner where he closed himself off to Chiaki and wrote off his suggestions as foolish cries for attention. "I won't—lie. And tell you that I'm in love with you or something, or that my feelings are anywhere near what you probably feel for me. But—I like you. As a friend. A lot, so much that I'm willing to do pretty much anything if it means I might be able to keep you. So, just…you should just. Make me fall in love with you."

As if it were that simple; Chiaki knew what he must sound like. Immature, selfish, blind to all of the potential pitfalls and the flaws in his logic. It was his own damn fault that they couldn't go back to like before Yuu confessed, and it was hardly fair to Yuu to ask him to put himself, his emotional well-being on the line in the blind hope that _maybe_ Chiaki might _eventually_ develop feelings to reciprocate Yuu's own.

There was a long stretch of silence while Yuu considered, and Chiaki grew uncomfortable being under such a piercing, calculating, judging gaze for so long. "…You're serious."

Not a question, an observation—Chiaki still nodded fervently. "I—I swear on…on my personally autographed copy of _Za Kan_ volume 10—" And at this, Yuu broke into laughter again, this time thankfully genuine, bright and warm and without derision. "Yeah, s-so. There. You know I'm serious."

"I definitely know you're serious now, yup…" Yuu wiped at his nose and let his breathing calm, staring at Chiaki. "…You're so weird."

Chiaki frowned. "So? You're weird too."

Yuu shrugged, ambivalent. "I guess." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, defeated. "…Fine, let's just—start over."

"Eh? Ah—!" He squawked his protest when Yuu yanked him down to sit together on the couch, legs pressed against one another and body heat warmly flowing between them.

Yuu relaxed against the couch, propping his head against the cushions in one arm. "Na, Chiaki."

"Wh-what?"

"…I love you."

" _Eh_? Ah, oh…" _That_ kind of "starting over". "...Umm, well."

Yuu raised a brow. "So…what do you feel?"

Chiaki swallowed and cleared his mind as much as he could. "…I love you—as a friend. I'm not sure about more than that. But—" he protested, wanting to be clear, "—I still don't want to lose you. Just because I don't think I love you the same way as you love me doesn't mean…I can't. Eventually. So."

Yuu smiled softly and nodded. "So I just have to make you. Right?" A nod. "Hm. Okay then."

Chiaki blinked, feeling another turn of his stomach coming on. "…'Okay then'?"

"Okay then," Yuu repeated calmly. "Let's go on a date." And suddenly they weren't playing anymore. "You can be free tomorrow, right? No Hatori looming over you bitching about a manuscript?"

"Ah—well, no. I met with him earlier today, and I suppose I could tell the others to work from home tomorrow…"

"Good; do that, then." He reached over to grab his phone from the side table, flipping it open and scrolling through his scheduler. "It's a weekday, so…maybe Sunshine Aquarium? In Ikebukuro? It shouldn't be crowded, and they've still got the re-opening exhibits on display I hear. Plus it's quiet and calm, and you don't have any deadlines in the near future, so it should be a great place to relax. And we could get some lunch at…" He glanced over when he noticed Chiaki wasn't participating in the conversation anymore. "…Chiaki?"

It was just…they were really going to do this. He was really going to _date_ his best friend. Or rather, go _on_ a date; that left less of a worrisome shiver in his bones, as it didn't necessarily imply an ongoing relationship. And no matter how the guy tried to stay cynical about the whole thing, there was no denying that just now, for a moment, Yuu had looked genuinely _excited_ , giddy almost. Thrilled at the idea that he could goof off from work for a few hours just with Chiaki.

But… "…Just…how is that a date?" Yuu blinked, confused, and Chiaki shifted uncomfortably, not sure why he felt so out of sorts at all this planning. "…It doesn't feel any different from what we usually do, I mean…"

When he spared a glance back up at Yuu, expecting to see the frown back in place as he realized that Chiaki really hadn't a clue what he was getting into, he was more than a little shocked to see a soft smile. "…Because." He closed his phone back again with a snap. "This time you'll know that any time I do anything for you—it's because I love you. Because I want to make you happy, and to be near you." He added as an afterthought, "Oh—and I reserve the right to kiss you at some point."

"Wait—a _k-kiss_ …"

"It's part of the typical date package, after all," Yuu clarified. "And it'll be some spontaneous moment, too. Probably when you least expect it." Chiaki must have looked sick, for Yuu reminded him in a slightly more serious voice. "…You know, you can still back out… Really."

And have this entire evening have been a waste? And see his relationship with Yuu, hanging by a few tentative threads now, collapse into a pathetic shell of its former self? "…Hell no."


	8. Chapter 8

"…What're you doing here?" Short, succinct, and to the point as usual, Hatori bowed his stiff thanks to the secretary who'd shown him and Yuu to an unused meeting room at Marukawa.

"Just wanted to have a short chat; figured you'd still be here, slaving away like a good little editor. I haven't caught you at a bad time, have I?" Yuu's tone didn't suggest that he was in the least bit worried about the state of Hatori's work schedule, so he just leaned against the edge of the table and crossed his arms, waiting for Yuu to get on with it. "…Geez, stick up your ass, as usual."

Hatori rubbed at his temples. "Lazy and nosy, as usual. What do you want?"

Yuu sauntered over and slid into one of the empty seats, leaning over the table and propping his chin up in his hands, glancing up at Hatori with a sly smile on his face that was thoroughly unsettling. "To thank you."

"For what?" Hatori did an excellent job of keeping his voice even, he thought.

"Sending Chiaki over. I know you probably didn't want to. And you probably _shouldn't_ have, really. But you did. And I'm glad for it."

"I didn't send him over," Hatori grunted, pushing away from the table. "I told him to fix whatever he'd done to lose a valuable assistant who's good at his job. If that worked out to your advantage, then all for the better. It means I won't have to listen to him whine any more about problems between the two of you."

Yuu's gaze narrowed. "Mmm, yes. I expect it doesn't feel all that nice to have to listen to him go on and on about his complicated feelings for me, does it? Mr. Life-long Best Friend."

"If you're done, I'm returning to work. It's already quite late and I still have paperwork to finish. I'll remind you in the future that such conversations could just as easily be held over the phone or through an email and there's no reason to go out of your way to take up a meeting room just to express your thanks."

"Oh, but there is," Yuu protested, standing from his seat and adjusting his coat and bag across his shoulder. "If I hadn't come here in person, what you're about to tell me would lose all its impact."

Hatori turned and raised a brow, frowning. "And you think you know what I'm about to tell you?" A firm nod and a smug smile. Hatori took two long steps forward, ensuring that Yuu firmly understood what his extra few centimeters of height implied. "…If you hurt him…"

Yuu didn't blink, didn't flinch, just kept smiling that frustrating smile. "…What makes you think I'd do something stupid like letting him get away to be picked up by the likes of you now that I've got him?"

Hatori's frown deepened, and a shard of sadness flashed in his eyes before just as quickly fading away. "Good night, Yanase."

The door slammed behind him before Yuu could add, "Night, Hatori."

* * *

"It's 12:23," Chiaki reminded flatly. "You're late."

"I'm _fashionably_ late," Yuu protested, adjusting his glasses. "And you act like my being a few minutes late is a new thing."

Chiaki's frown was unmoved. "I assumed that maybe you might respect our agreed upon meeting time a little more if it was for a—" He glanced around furtively and dropped his voice. " _You know._ "

"…A what?"

Chiaki narrowed his gaze. "…You're not going to make me say it."

Yuu shrugged. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about." He then snapped a hand out and grabbed Chiaki's in his own and started dragging him through the crowd of bodies flowing through Ikebukuro station, not bothering to check his voice. "But I don't want to miss any more time on our date than I've already wasted, so hurry up."

Chiaki jerked his hand back, shoving both in his pockets in case Yuu tried such a stunt again, and picked up his pace to walk side by side, face flush. "I'm not a little kid. You don't have to drag me around by the hand."

"Chi~a~ki~" Yuu replied, sing-song, and knocked their shoulders together. "Didn't I tell you? Everything I do today…" _…Is because I'm in love with you_ was the unfinished statement.

Ducking his head, Chiaki nodded shortly. "Yeah yeah, I remember… All the more reason, though."

"You're embarrassed?"

"To hold hands in public? Of course!" He shook a finger in Yuu's face. "But—I'd be just as embarrassed if you were Tori or a girl or Chinatsu or anyone, see? Don't think it's cause—it's you or 'cause you're a guy or anything."

"Hmm, Chiaki doesn't like public displays of affection…" Yuu's tone was calculating, something quite worrisome.

"…Why do you make it sound like an invitation to do just that?"

Yuu laughed and shrugged. "Fine, but don't complain if we get separated in a crowd."

Weekday though it might have been, the crowd thronging around the station and the immediate vicinity was nothing to sneeze at, and it took nearly twice the usual time to Sunshine City because they were fighting the crowd every step of the way. A few times Chiaki caught himself almost reaching out for balance or reassurance to keep from being separated, but always he checked himself at the last minute and settled for keeping connected via conversation.

"You'll be free at the end of the month to come to the studio, right? I know you mentioned Sekiguchi-sensei petitioned for you to do some of her backdrops, but it'd really help if you were free to do some panels for the next chapter for me, too." He raised his brows hopefully, guiding Yuu with a hand at the small of his back into a breath in the crowd for some space. "I know I'll have to go through the proper channels and all, but—"

"It's fine—I'll take care of it," Yuu responded calmly, reaching into his back pocket for a folding fan. "You hate doing boring things like scheduling and all, right?" Chiaki laughed nervously, the nail obviously being hit on the head. "From the 27th—that okay? Sekiguchi's stuff is usually due by the 25th anyways, so I might be free before then, even."

"Don't keel over from working too hard," Chiaki warned, throwing him a sidelong glance.

"And leave you to the mercy of Kurihara-san and the others? No way~"

After finally managing to successfully navigate the maze of humanity flooding Ikebukuro and reach the aquarium, now came the part of the date that Chiaki had been most worried about: who treated who. Yuu had asked him out…so did that mean he had to let Yuu pay for him? What about dinner? And any treats in between? Why did anyone ever go on dates if it involved this much stress?!

But before he could pop a blood vessel from the stress, Yuu was pressing a ticket into his hand and laughing at his expression, reassuring him, "Get a grip; you can buy me dinner later and we'll call it even." He flicked Chiaki's forehead and then ruffled his hair to defuse the situation. "Worrywart. Just have fun."

Chiaki stared down at the ticket, and reminded himself it was just a date. Just—a date. With Yuu. Just a _date_ with Yuu, and this ticket was bought and paid for out of Yuu's love. There was nothing _simple_ about it.

"Chiaki," Yuu called softly, tugged at his sleeve and looking stupidly content and patient and far more calm and collected than Chiaki was feeling right now—so much so that it was downright frustrating. "…Thank you."

"Eh?" He nearly dropped the ticket.

"You're a good friend. Offering to do this."

Chiaki clenched the ticket to his chest. "Don't say that. It's not a favor or anything, so you shouldn't thank me like that. I seriously want to do this—and you're supposed to be doing your best too, right? To…you know."

"Oh? And I'm not so far?"

Chiaki started to march towards the entrance. "I haven't fallen for you, yet, so you obviously have a long ways to go still."

Yuu snorted but followed behind him dutifully. "I'll do my best…"

* * *

The date was…not bad. By any measure, really. Chiaki hadn't been to an aquarium in ages and found himself enjoying the exhibits far more than he might have thought he would, given that Yuu was a constant, mindful presence at his back. But rather than feeling cornered or watched, Chiaki instead appreciated having someone who was less a simple friend and more a companion, who paid attention to him and cared about his stupid comments more than Yuu the Friend might have (or more than he would have _expected_ Yuu the Friend to care).

But then there were the moments where Chiaki would look up and realize it was only the two of them huddled off in the alcove bounded by tanks of jellyfish, their eyes reflecting the glowing neon lights that lit up the otherworldly shapes in the glass cases—or a group would move on while Chiaki was still ogling the tank mock-up of the seabed below Tokyo Bay and suddenly it was just him, alone for a brief moment before the next group wandered along, with Yuu's face practically pressed up against the glass next to him. Silent, still moments in the dark coolness of the bowels of the aquarium where it wouldn't be unheard of for someone to steal a kiss from another, grab a hasty peck to the cheeks, the lips, to press someone up against the chilly faux rock wall for a quick breath-stealing smack.

Yuu laughed when he caught Chiaki staring at him, shaking his head and grabbing the strap of his bag to pull him closer when he took a hasty step backwards when Yuu drew too close. "…Idiot. I'm not going to kiss you in public."

Chiaki readjusted his pack and tried to hide his embarrassed flush, humiliated. "I wasn't thinking about that. Don't get so full of yourself."

"Hmm." Yuu didn't seem too convinced. "You weren't thinking how that was a good point to steal a kiss?"

"I wasn't," Chiaki ground out, keeping his voice even and low so as not to attract attention. He wished Yuu had the same sense of propriety.

"Then why are you blushing?" Chiaki batted him away when Yuu's breath brushed his ear, hissing his name in admonition. "Right right…" And this time he seemed a bit more genuinely put out. Which was hardly Chiaki's problem; he'd made it clear he didn't like that sort of thing being done to him in public—Yuu could get over it.

When their tour group broke up at the end of the winding journey through the aquarium's exhibits, Chiaki breathed a sigh of relief and stepped out onto the top-floor patio where the marine mammal exhibits were located, tapping the glass of the otter tank with a smile. "Hungry yet?" Yuu called from behind him, and he glanced up to see his reflection, shaking his head. "Good, cause everything here costs an arm and a leg."

"I'm supposed to be treating you though, right?" Chiaki challenged, but Yuu just shrugged.

"If you _want_ to buy me a thousand-yen snow cone, go for it."

"I think I'll pass…" He wandered over to the penguin area, watching the animals toddle around. "That one looks like Tori did when we had to get all dressed up for our coming-of-age ceremony, remember?"

Yuu snorted, leaning against the railing beside Chiaki. "Everything was cinched too tight, and he was wearing a pair of borrowed geta that didn't fit him; he looked ridiculous." He cast a side-long glance at Chiaki. "…I remember you looked really good though."

Chiaki sank into his crossed arms in front of him. "Yeah. Well. You have crappy taste."

"I have _impeccable_ taste. You're just modest."

"Plus that was, like, ten years ago. You're probably misremembering."

Yuu shook his head, smiling softly. "I'd never forget a memory I made with Chiaki. Like today."

Chiaki stood up bolt straight, chest seizing at being reminded once again how serious Yuu was in this endeavor. "…I'll probably never understand you."

"You don't have to understand all of me. Just the important parts." Chiaki's brows knit in confusion, but Yuu smoothly changed the subject. "You done looking around? There's not much else to do here unless you're under the age of 10, so we may as well kill time 'til we're hungry at an arcade, I figure."

Brightening at the suggestion and forgetting for a rare moment what the context of the invitation was, Chiaki let out a pleased, "Sure!" before glancing around for the exit. Yuu snorted at his sudden change in demeanor and strode off confidently in one direction, leaving Chiaki to traipse along behind him.

After successfully navigating the crowds once more, Yuu sniffed out a game center with a relatively uncrowded lobby and jerked his head to guide Chiaki inside. It was bright and lively around the entrance, schoolgirls off from classes crowding around UFO catchers and squealing their encouragement to each other and boys who looked college age doing much the same thing. He had more than a few fond memories of game centers as a child, and it felt like it'd been ages since he'd taken the time off for stupidly goofing off like this. He silently thanked Yuu for asking him out, reminding himself he ought to do it aloud later or risk seeming like an utter clod.

Further inside, the parlor broke into areas catering to the old-school gamers with coin-operated hulking machines twenty or more years old, purikura machines spilling out schoolgirls in droves, even a pachinko-style gambling area for those who yearned for the thrill of a game of chance but didn't have the funds for the real thing.

Chiaki made a beeline for the arcade area, changing 2000 yen for a heavy pocketful of 100-yen coins and warning Yuu that just because Yuu tended to kick his ass when they played on the console in private didn't mean Chiaki wasn't going to pull off some amazing moves here.

They passed the next half hour jumping from racing game to Mario-spinoff to first-person shooter and eventually back to racing again because it was the closest Chiaki was probably going to get to driving since he'd let his license expire after going through the trouble to get it; Tori complained about driving him around when occasion demanded it, but really even he couldn't argue that Chiaki needed to get a car (even if he could afford two) if he was holed up in the studio two-thirds of the day.

Yuu tried to hold his hand in the middle of their third race, and Chiaki promptly spiraled into a ditch. He felt this was cheating, and quite dirtily at that, but Yuu just smiled and shrugged and reminded Chiaki it was a date and the covered racing station was plenty intimate enough to hold hands. Chiaki envied Yuu being able to lie through his teeth about stuff like that.

He might have believed Yuu if he hadn't tried to pull the same stunt on the flight simulator (Chiaki had crashed into a mountain) or during an attempt to secure a stuffed _Za Kan_ plush (Yuu'd claimed he was helping guide Chiaki's unsteady hand); as it was, he was either very sneaky, or very desperate to touch Chiaki. "Both" could also not be entirely discounted.

And yet with every little shoulder bump or brush of hands or sidelong glance, Yuu never tried anything else. Chiaki might have complained that the arcade booths were too public for holding hands, but really he was just being contrary, and sealed off as they were by the low curtains hanging over either entrance, a couple probably could do (and likely _had_ done) a lot without attracting too much attention as long as their coins kept extending the time and they kept it discreet.

Not that Chiaki _wanted_ anything to happen, but it was hard to relax and forget that this was a date in the romantic sense (from Yuu's point of view at least) when the guy kept leaning in close or speaking into Chiaki's ear to be heard over the din of the crowd around them, or when he'd lay his hand calmly over Chiaki's own and rub a thumb soft and mesmerizingly over the sensitive skin on the back of his hand, drawing little circles on the flesh until it tickled too much and Chiaki jerked away, inevitably forced to apologize and explain that it wasn't because he disliked the contact, it just tickled. Why did he have to feel like a jerk like that?

Why couldn't Yuu just _get it over with_ so that Chiaki could stop expecting to be jerked into a corner behind the Mrs. Pacman and have Yuu take the kiss he'd warned Chiaki he'd be expecting at some point today? It was just the one, after all, and Chiaki could put up with _one_ kiss, even from a guy he'd known for fifteen years. If you closed your eyes and just enjoyed it, it wasn't all that different from kissing anyone else, surely. Chiaki probably couldn't use the same tactic if things escalated from there, but today was today and a kiss was just a kiss, and Yuu deserved it after putting up with all of Chiaki's weirdness over this whole venture.

So what was _taking_ so damn long?!

He could hardly bring this up, though, and so the aggravating couple-y gestures, dancing just on the boundary of what Chiaki was comfortable with, continued unabated, until finally the afternoon was winding down. Chiaki was frowning at an electronic slot machine which seemed to be laughing at him as it sucked down the last of his change. He didn't quite understand why you'd play a game more suited for a pachinko parlor if there was no lure of winning back some of the funds you poured into it, but Yuu seemed sure he was about to hit "the big one" (whatever that meant) and whined until Chiaki accompanied him into the casino-style area of the arcade.

"Hah!" was the triumphant cry from beside him. "If this had been a _real_ game, I'd be treating you to some fine champagne on our next outing."

Chiaki ignored the way Yuu had smoothly substituted _outing_ for _date_ , so that Chiaki couldn't squirm out of it, and instead grumbled. "You know I hate that stuff."

Yuu rolled his eyes and slid out of the chair, slipping his bag over his shoulder. "You're just not used to it—it's an acquired taste."

"If I haven't acquired a taste for it in ten years, I don't think it's coming, sorry."

"You just don't _want_ to like it bad enough."

Chiaki was dubious. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Yuu shrugged. "Sometimes you keep doing something, even if you don't really like it, because the reward at the end justifies the work you had to go through to get there." His gaze grew a bit far off, but he quickly snapped out of it and turned on his heel to head towards the purikura section of the center. "Let's do purikura."

Chiaki grimaced. "You don't think it's weird for two guys to squeeze into a photobooth and pose for sparkly pictures?"

Yuu raised a brow, frowning. "Yoshikawa Chiharu—the girliest mangaka on _Monthly Emerald_ 's roster—is judging me for wanting to do purikura on a date? _Seriously_? Get your ass in the booth." He reached forward to grab Chiaki's arm, but Chiaki scrambled past him, grumbling the whole time.

It was about as bad as Chiaki had feared. Yuu took forever to pick out backdrops and got annoyed when Chiaki wouldn't give his serious input on which to choose, and then to top it all off he'd somehow managed to find what Chiaki was sure were the most embarrassing, couple-y poses the booth had in its database.

But, Chiaki reminded himself, he'd agreed to this, and even if it felt like it was just him and Yuu hanging out like usual, underneath the surface he was supposed to be here spending time with Yuu and trying to figure out if there was any way he could ever reciprocate the feelings Yuu kept reminding him he held at the most inopportune moments. Like now—the way he was draping himself over Chiaki's shoulders from behind, his breath warm right by Chiaki's ear when he laughed and suggested, "I'm totally sending one of these to Hatori; he'll flip a shit."

"Oh— _geez_ , don't do that. Like I need another lecture…"

"What's he gonna lecture you on? It's your day off; what's it matter who you spend it with?" He had a point, but somehow Chiaki got the feeling Tori wouldn't see the humor in a few goofy shots with Yuu in the same light they did.

The bulb flashed again, and a melodic voice instructed them to change poses. Yuu slid around to Chiaki's side, one arm draped lazily over his shoulder, and he cocked his head to the side to knock their heads together. "I won't deny it's kind of because I want to show you off, too, though; he's probably the only one I can do that with…" Chiaki reflected on this, forcing a smile he hoped hid the mental frown.

Tori knew about them, probably. Or knew what Chiaki was doing; it wasn't that difficult to figure out, given the conversations they'd had over the past few weeks, but still… He hoped the guy didn't treat him any differently. Not that there was anything _different_ about him, just… The situation with Yuu was complicated, and no matter how it turned out, he didn't want to lose either Yuu or Tori, which made making any hard decisions that much more difficult.

"Last set…" Yuu warned, voice warm and teasing, laced with contentment and not an ounce of the anxiety Chiaki was dealing with. Dates weren't supposed to be so _difficult_. They were supposed to be fun and exciting and comfortable and—

"…Chiaki? One more sh—"

The bulb flashed, and when the shine died away, Chiaki's lips were on Yuu's and he was holding onto his shirt front to keep connected, releasing him a moment later with an embarrassed _ah!_ before taking a few steps back to put physical distance between them.

His face was burning and he wiped at his mouth, appalled at what he'd done; but Yuu had just been right there with his face all close, and Chiaki'd been on edge all day worrying when the kiss was going to come, and it wasn't fair that he got to enjoy the date while Chiaki kept being reminded that it was _just that_ , which kept him wondering what it meant if he did things like this with Yuu and didn't hate it. "I—it's just, it's annoying, not knowing when you're gonna make a move!"

But Yuu was covering his mouth too—mostly to keep the huge smile on his face from leaking out and setting Chiaki more on edge (which he was failing at). "…A pre-emptive strike?" Chiaki nodded furiously and snatched up the bag he'd set on the floor, stalking out of the booth to wait for their photos to be printed. Yuu followed him, on his heels like a puppy. "…You know—" He dropped his voice, conscious of their surroundings for once. "—I…probably wasn't going to go through with it anyways. I didn't mean to make you feel weird…"

Chiaki whirled on him, his voice going high and strained. " _What_?! So that…" Yuu shrugged, face still split with a smug smile that he tried to bite back, futilely. "Well—shit, fine. Whatever. You can stop looking like that, then!"

"Like what?"

"Like…like _that_."

Yuu slipped around to the dispenser, palming the purikura prints as they were spit out. "Like the guy I like just kissed me in a purikura booth? Ooh—" He held up the offending image, shaking it for Chiaki to see. "Definitely sending this one to Hatori."

"Like _hell_ —!"

Chiaki was in a dour mood for the next ten minutes, and Yuu's own good mood quickly wore off when he recognized that Chiaki truly was unhappy with the brash move. He apologized a few times over, even though he really had nothing _to_ apologize for ostensibly, and while Chiaki didn't explicitly say he'd decided to let bygones be bygones, he didn't object when Yuu offered to pay for dinner anyways. Lotteria wasn't breaking the bank, and Chiaki reasoned this wasn't him being treated on a date so much as Yuu making up for all of the touchy-feely moves he'd been pulling all day despite knowing that Chiaki really wasn't comfortable with so much that early.

Whether out of respect for Chiaki's discomfort and a continued apology for his behavior or simply because the conversation drifted in that direction, they chatted over burger sets about upcoming projects, voice-actor tryouts for the drama CD one of Chiaki's pieces was being made into, more gossip floating around between assistants about their head mangaka—all mundane talk that helped defuse the tension between them until Chiaki had relaxed and almost begun to enjoy himself again.

He frowned when he caught the purikura in Yuu's wallet as he pulled out his train pass while they wandered back to the station. "…You're not _seriously_ giving that to Tori, right?"

Yuu lifted a brow, smiling knowingly. "Some reason I shouldn't?" He laughed loudly at the glare Chiaki returned. "Right right. Well, I can't say I don't kind of want to keep them all for myself." He glanced over at Chiaki. "…Unless you want one?" Chiaki shook his head violently. "Didn't think so."

"…It wasn't even real, though. I told you I just did it because I was stressed out and worried and—it was the heat of the moment, and—"

"It's still a kiss from Chiaki, though," Yuu reasoned evenly, passing his card over the IC reader as they sauntered down into the bowels of the station, headed for the Marunouchi tracks. "It still made me really happy. So accept it."

Chiaki had no intention of doing that at all, but he kept his mouth shut. "…Aren't you off the Chuo? Wouldn't it be easier to just take the Yamanote to Shinjuku then? Cheaper at least…"

Yuu snorted, flipping his cellphone open to check train times and change-overs. "What kind of a _you know what_ would this be if I didn't escort you home?"

Chiaki barely stifled an offended _Eh?!_ "You're—seriously? I'm not twelve!"

"And we're not just hanging out like usual," Yuu returned smoothly, but his voice was warning. He sighed softly and pocket his cellphone again. "It's just to see you home; let me have that much?"

Chiaki colored, realizing he was coming off like he was still fighting this the whole way—when he'd been working hard to accept it all. "But…it's out of your way…" Yuu didn't seem like this was going to deter him, and Chiaki slipped into a seat at the far end of an empty row of benches. "You're sure going through a lot of trouble to spend time with me…"

Yuu slipped down next to him, slumping against the seat back, smiling to himself. "Just trying to enjoy it while it lasts. This is probably my one freebie, after all."

Chiaki blinked, somewhat put off by the tone. "Freebie?"

Yuu leaned over and knocked their shoulders together. "You're nice to do this—"

"I _told_ you to stop talking about it like that—"

"— _but_ I'm not holding my breath. I'm glad to have gotten to do this much with you, really."

A long pause, and a dull overhead speaker droned announcements of incoming and outgoing trains. "…So you're giving up." Chiaki's declaration was flat, and he slumped against the chair back in the same position, breathing in deep as their train pulled in.

Yuu snorted at his petulance. "You _want_ me to try harder to remind you how I feel and keep hoping that one day you'll feel the same way even though you're pretty adamant about _not_ feeling that way?"

"I didn't say it was going to be easy," Chiaki grumbled through grit teeth and charged for the opening doors with a huff. If Yuu wanted to pout and ruin the last twenty minutes of their _date_ that was his problem. He dropped his voice so they wouldn't be easily overheard on the relatively quiet train. "But I'm the one who has to deal with you being my friend for the last decade and a half. You can't seriously expect me to be fine with it all of a sudden."

Yuu's face was expressionless, but Chiaki detected a hint of resignation in it and wasn't too surprised when he didn't continue the conversation.

The walk from the station—a ten-minute trek that seemed longer than usual given that they weren't joking or discussing the latest volume of whatever popular shounen manga they'd taken an interest in—was silent, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts. Why did it have to end like this? It hadn't been the _worst_ date he'd ever been on, really, especially given that he hadn't honestly had high hopes. Yuu just had to keep bringing up that it wasn't going to work out, which made Chiaki feel like he had to work that much harder to prove him wrong, and he was having a hard enough time keeping himself together to begin with. He wanted to be focusing on his own feelings, not struggling to make sure Yuu's weren't hurt. Surely he had to realize what a task it was going to be for Chiaki to do the right thing and actually give Yuu a chance to try and turn Chiaki's world upside down; it was a _first date_. Those always sucked; this one was _good_ by first-date standards.

It was only when he noticed Yuu had stopped walking three steps behind him that he realized somewhere along the way he must've started grumbling out loud. He frowned at himself, trying to remember if he'd said anything too terribly embarrassing, and turned to face Yuu. The street around them was empty, as they'd cut down a side street headed towards Chiaki's apartment, and in the distance could be heard children's squeals on a neighborhood playground and the old, crowing call of a wandering sweet potato vendor.

"...I don't want you to force yourself, though," Yuu mumbled, letting his gaze fall to the side. "You're the one who wanted to do this in the first place; so I shouldn't ask for more than you're willing to give."

Chiaki fumed. "Didn't you say this sort of thing didn't mean anything unless you _both_ wanted it? What the hell am I supposed to do if you're just gonna give up? If this is your idea of 'taking care of me,' then I don't need it anymore." He turned on his heel and started back towards his apartment alone, hunching down in his jacket and waiting for the crunch of sneakers on asphalt that meant Yuu wasn't as big a coward as Chiaki accused him of being.

"...Chiaki."

" _What_?"

Then, the sound of feet slapping loudly against the concrete in quick concert, and Chiaki released a loud _oof_ as Yuu barreled into him, wrapping one arm tight around his neck and pulling him close. "You're too good for me."

Chiaki brushed him off, stepping up his pace. "It's not an invitation. It means I'm going to do my best to be open-minded, so you shouldn't go about things all half-assed like that." When they reached his stairwell, he took the steps two at a time.

Yuu gave him a mock salute, charging up after him. "Absolutely, sensei."

Chiaki fished for his keys in his bag, slowing down the last few meters before his door. "I told the others already, but I have some errands to run in the morning, so I won't be in to the studio until...oh." He glanced up, startled, when a body pressed in close, hemming him in against the door. "Umm, Yuu."

"Hm?"

"You're kind of..." Yuu just raised his brows and braced one leg between Chiaki's, their chests nearly brushing. "...close."

"That's the idea."

"...Huh?"

He snorted. "I was thinking...I want my kiss now."

Chiaki let out an embarrassing whine and tried to press himself physically _through_ the door. "But—just, earlier, in the booth, I already..."

"That was Chiaki's kiss to me." He tapped his bottom lip. "I still haven't gotten to give Chiaki _mine_." He leaned down until their noses were nearly brushing. "...It's fine, right? I won't do it if you don't want it, but..."

Chiaki swallowed hard and closed his eyes, nodding. "Y-yeah, I know. It's fine. You can do it." Then, he held his breath and waited.

And waited. And waited—and waited a bit more, releasing a frustrated groan and about to start griping at Yuu to get a move on, when he felt something soft and dry brush his cheek. "...Eh?"

"Night, Chiaki. Thanks for the date." And with that, Yuu turned on his heel and marched back towards the stairwell, leaving Chiaki nearly slipping to his knees. All that worry, all that waiting, that _pre-emptive strike_...for a kiss less intimate than ones he'd shared with his _parents_. What a fucking wash-out.

" _Ju~st_ kidding," came a sing-song voice, and Chiaki glanced up just in time to see Yuu smoothly execute an about face and bodily press Chiaki into the door, bracing his hands against Chiaki's wrists to keep him in place while he covered his lips with his own. Chiaki breathed in sharply, and Yuu ran his tongue over the seam of his resolutely shut lips enough to shock him into opening them with a cry, massaging his lips in apology and sucking in shortly before releasing him with a rough huff of air.

Yuu took a few steps back, rearranged the lapels on his jacket and the bag at his hip, and cleared his throat. He was breathing hard, mouth still hanging open and lips flushed—yet still somehow looking more held-together than Chiaki remotely felt. His knees trembled, and his wrists ached dully from being held. Everything was a blur, but he could still make out Yuu's voice, not entirely sure whether or not he was imagining the soft waver of excitement in it. "...Right. Good night for serious this time."

"N-night..." Chiaki managed, breathily, and in the back of his mind, he thought it was probably a good thing Yuu hadn't taken him up on his offer for a kiss the few days before. His feelings would've been damn well _settled_.


	9. Chapter 9

Chiaki gulped nervously when he stepped into the cool interior of the cafe, noting with no small amount of disappointment that Tori looked even worse off than usual today as far as his mood went. He quickly glanced at his watch—he wasn't late… And he'd actually been quite proud of the panels he'd turned over to his editor a few days prior, so there was no way he was gearing up to unleash another lecture on Chiaki. Then, what?

He shuffled over, pasting on a benign smile and apologizing for being late when he was actually three minutes early. It wasn't his fault if Tori had been waiting ten minutes just because he got here before their agreed-upon meeting time. With these thoughts in mind, he squared his jaw and slid into his chair, maintaining his composure but trying not to come off confrontational. "Were you waiting long?"

Tori just shook his head, keeping his eyes raking over the section of newspaper he had folding in his lap, and brought his coffee to his lips. Chiaki tensed inside; usually he didn't waste a moment of their short weekly meetings to start reaming Chiaki for fifteen little mistakes that only _he_ would notice. That thirty seconds had already passed and he was still checking the next week's weather forecast was not a good sign.

Chiaki hastily pulled out his notepad and started rooting around for a pen in his bag, babbling a story about a funny advertisement he'd noticed on the train on the way over—when Tori smoothly removed his cellphone from his chest pocket and slid it over the table towards Chiaki, now reviewing upcoming movie titles and taking another calm sip from his cup.

Chiaki regarded the device with mild confusion, glancing up and down between it and his friend, not quite sure how to treat the gesture. "Open it," Tori eventually advised, voice cold and calm and all the more worrisome now.

Chiaki swallowed thickly and gently pried open the screen, a tiny little gasp catching in his throat when he noticed the background wallpaper hidden beneath a scrolling reminder that Tori had 2 unread text messages. "Wha— _where did you get this?!_ " He glanced up, frantically, clutching the phone to his chest, and realized Tori was glaring at him most unhappily. For once, though, Chiaki didn't really care how Tori felt and what impending lecture was just ready to fall from his lips. He reduced his voice to a loud whisper. "That— _asshole_ , I told him not to—"

"So this _actually happened_?!" Tori's voice was laced with undeniable shock, and his cheeks were flushed, an unusual sight on a man who was normally the picture of composure. "I—assumed it was some sick joke of Yanase's…"

"Ah—y-yeah!" Chiaki laughed, latching onto a quick and easy way out of this. "Yuu was messing around with some graphics software yesterday and thought this would be a fun joke! I tried to tell him to trash the thing but you know Yuu…" Tori's gaze didn't waver, and Chiaki eventually lost his nerve, slumping into the chair and snapping the phone shut; he had absolutely no desire to be reminded of his rash action the previous afternoon. "…Sorry."

There was a long pause, and Tori's voice, when he spoke again, was soft and dangerous. "…You ought to be."

Chiaki didn't like the tone and jumped on the defensive. "It wasn't like I meant to do that; you know me—" But did Tori, really? Chiaki wasn't even sure he knew himself these days. "—you know that I wouldn't—"

"Are you leading him on?"

"No!" Chiaki snapped angrily, immediately regretting the outburst when a couple at a table near them glanced over in concern. " _No_ ," he repeated, more calmly now—and it was mostly true. At least, he didn't _think_ he was. He certainly _hoped_ he wasn't.

"Then what the hell are you doing?" He all but spit out the words, setting his cup down on the table with such force some of the contents spilled out.

"It's—nothing! None of your business anyways. It's my personal problem—"

"And I told you you'd better not let it interfere with your _professional_ life which very much _is_ my business," Tori reminded him, reaching for a napkin and solemnly sopping up the mess.

Chiaki groaned. "That's got to be the second or third time you've given me that line—how many times do I have to promise I won't before you'll stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong? What's your problem anyways?" He snatched up his notebook and stuffed it back in his pack.

"What—where are you going? We haven't even started yet."

"You're being an asshole for no good reason; I'll put up with it when I've done something wrong, but I'm not going to sit here and let you lecture me when it's not my fault. Everyone's waiting up at the studio anyways." He slipped his bag over his shoulder and situated it against his hip. "It's just Yuu trying to rile you up; no one says you have to react to it."

And with that, he turned on his heel and stomped out of the cafe, resolutely ignoring the look of genuine hurt that had flashed across Tori's features.

* * *

The atmosphere at the studio was really not all that much better than at the cafe, Chiaki had to admit. But at least here he was the boss, and no one could chew him out for things that weren't his fault.

Kurihara-san practically assaulted him the moment he walked through the door, jabbering on about how the reference materials he'd passed out to all the assistants the week before were completely different from what they needed—that the trees were the wrong type, the building layout was completely off, and was Sensei drunk when he picked out the dress the heroine was supposed to wear to the party because the outfit had been soundly rejected by all of the female assistants and even Yanase-san had said he wouldn't pick up a girl wearing it.

Chiaki glanced over at Yuu, as if for confirmation, but the guy was hunched over his current project and didn't even seem to realize he'd been mentioned. After delivering his instructions to the girls and sending them off to their assigned tasks, he slipped into his chair with a sigh. The lazy attitude from the previous day was dogging his heels even now, and he wondered if perhaps assuring Tori that this wouldn't interfere with his work hadn't been entirely true.

He caught himself stealing glances at Yuu throughout the day; the guy looked rather calm and comfortable with himself for a guy sitting this close to someone he was attracted to, especially after practically gnawing Chiaki's face off the night before—what kind of dick move was that? A kiss was understood to be a kiss, something nice and chaste, a peck on the lips. Chiaki had been drawing kisses for years now—Yuu, too, occasionally—so where did he get the idea that _I guess one kiss is fine_ meant _please feel free to shove your tongue down my throat_ , even if it did leave him feeling a bit breathless in a not so terrible way? It just wasn't _polite_ , and for someone who claimed to not want to make Chiaki hate him for feeling the way he did, he sure hadn't pulled any punches on Chiaki's doorstep. Kisses like that were things you _worked up to_ ; kisses like that were third, fourth, fifth date kisses. Not tentative first date ones.

He shivered and shook his head to clear it, piecing through his in-progress panels to decide which ones he needed to focus on most urgently. He didn't want to have to apologize to Tori and admit that he was right, that he was letting this whole thing with Yuu bleed over into their studio interactions—so he just needed to put his nose to the grindstone and make sure of just that.

Except that was easier said than done. Their studio was a lively one on any normal day, and the girls were having a conversation about the group date Yuu had backed out of, with Kurihara-san throwing the occasional jab of, "And it might have been a lot more fun if _someone_ hadn't bailed on us at the last minute." Not that Yuu didn't hold his own, gossiping as he was wont to do and making the girls giggle, sliding in his potshots at Chiaki so they didn't think he was playing favorites.

Chiaki wrinkled his nose at the display; Yuu had always been at ease around the other assistants, and it was hardly a secret that he'd broken a few hearts making the rounds at the studios around Tokyo and the greater Kantou area. Male assistants were rare in the shoujo manga world (rarer still were mangaka, though), so naturally Yuu drew stares wherever he went. Chiaki had often wondered why Yuu seemed to always turn down the tentative offers of lunch or dinner from girls he'd thought had seemed quite nice and honest; things made more sense now, but it somehow still didn't stop Chiaki from feeling a tiny bit miffed that Yuu knew the effect he had on people and still was so openly flirtatious and charming despite having no intention of ever offering them more. There was a difference between being nice and being… _Yuu_.

 _If you like me so much, stop teasing them!_ He wanted to shout it, but instead he opted to just cut short the conversation as it was and clear the air. "Yuu, come make copies with me."

"And so I said—eh?" Yuu twigged to being called, twisting around to where Chiaki stood, arms crossed, at the back of the room, a sheaf of papers under one arm. "Copies?"

" _Copies_." He stalked forward and grabbed Yuu by the shirt collar, jerking him towards the door.

Once safely in the hallway, Chiaki released him and continued towards the copy room a few doors down, ignoring Yuu's concerned, "Chiaki…?" and listening only for the sound of sneakers on linoleum that said Yuu was following obediently.

He made sure to shut the copy room door behind Yuu when they'd entered and crossed his arms, tapping one foot in annoyance. "Well?"

"Uh…well, what?"

Chiaki rolled his eyes. "I met up with Tori today, you know!"

"Ah." The effect was immediate, and Yuu took a few steps back, turning to busy himself with the copies they'd come here under the pretense of making. "H-how's he doing? Good, I hope? Haven't talked to him in a while…"

"Stop messing around; you know what I'm mad about."

Yuu shook his head, but Chiaki caught him fighting back an amused smile. "Nope, not a clue. Sorry."

"You sent him _that picture_ when I told you not to!" He stomped forward and shoved Yuu by the shoulder to make him face Chiaki properly, shaking a finger in his face and suddenly feeling an upswelling of annoyance bordering on anger. "I didn't want him to know about that, dammit!"

"Know about—?"

"That—stupid picture! The date, all of it!"

Yuu frowned. "You're keeping this from him?"

" _No_ —I mean, I'm not _lying_ to him about it, but I sure as hell don't want to just spill my guts to him about every little thing we do together!" He flushed darkly and took a step back, giving himself room to breathe. "Tori's pissy enough on a good day. I don't need him harassing me about losing you as an assistant if this all goes sour or messing up my manuscript preparation schedule for a date or something. And you're not helping by goading him with crap like that!"

Yuu flinched, abashed, and it was evident he hadn't given the teasing much thought. "I…sorry, you know I like riling Hatori up. It was just supposed to be a joke…"

"Well just—cut it out with him. He's on edge enough as is about this whole situation for some reason—" He missed the way Yuu glanced away at this, "—so…don't go out of your way to make things more tense."

Yuu sighed loudly and nodded. "Yeah—sorry, I really didn't mean to make things difficult for you. I'll be more careful in the future." He raked a glance over Chiaki, judging his body language. "…Is this why you've been pissed at me all day?"

Chiaki felt his irritation rise again, frustrated that Yuu had apologized sincerely and so now Chiaki kind of _had_ to forgive him, even though he was still rightly ticked at the guy for being himself in the studio. He opened his mouth before he could stop himself: "No, actually—it's not!"

Yuu blinked a few times, chastised, and hesitated to ask, "Then…why?"

"You—" Chiaki started to give him a piece of his mind, but words failed him. What was he supposed to say? That he was angry Yuu was treating the girls as he'd always treated them? That he wasn't as high-strung around Chiaki as Chiaki was around him, and that that wasn't fair? Was he supposed to admit that he was more confused after their date than he'd been before it, that he'd been thinking about the stupid kiss in front of his door far more than was appropriate for a healthy young man who truly, honestly liked _girls_ and not one of his male best friends?

"Ah." Yuu released a small sound of surprise when Chiaki struggled to respond and failed, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Y-you…you _seriously_ think this is supposed to be like some shoujo manga scene, don't you?"

"Eh?"

"You're such an air-headed idiot," he remarked fondly, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "You think that just because we went out yesterday, that today we should be walking on eggshells and exchanging hesitant glances or not know what to say to each other because we're _so in love~_ we're just tripping over ourselves?" He rolled his eyes. "You've seriously spent too many years writing for this genre, Sensei."

"I did— _not_ —" Chiaki started, but Yuu cut him off abruptly, stepping forward and dropping his voice to inject a note of seriousness.

"I'm not going to change how I treat you, Chiaki," he reminded, staring straight into Chiaki's eyes, unblinking. "Not one bit—because I'm exactly the same person I am now as I was yesterday and the day before that. The same person I've been since the day I met you—the same person I've been since I fell in love with you." He held out his arms. "This is me, through and through. If you think something should change or be different now in how we behave around each other—then you'll have to be the one to do it. You'll have to be the one who treats me differently, because…absolutely nothing has changed for me." Chiaki's mouth fell open, but no sound came out, and Yuu sighed long-sufferingly. "I can't do all the work, Chiaki. You— _you_ have to be open to it. You have to—"

"I'm open!" Chiaki finally found his voice, hands forming fists at his sides, and he repeated himself for good measure, raising his voice. "I'm wide open! Look at me! There has never been a more open person than me!"

Yuu blinked—at both the tone and the desperate expression on Chiaki's face—before poorly stifling a snort and breaking into a fit of giggles. " _Geez_ I love you." Chiaki had only a moment to process the easily spoken confession before Yuu slipped forward, smooth and confident, and pressed a soft, dry kiss to Chiaki's lips, lingering for a few moments to enjoy the closeness and the fact that while Chiaki wasn't reciprocating, he wasn't pulling away, before releasing him.

Chiaki swallowed thickly, fighting the instinctive urge to lick his lips. "Yuu…"

The smile that was returned was still a tinged with a bit of reluctance. "You've got to stop letting me do that. I don't want to get too used to it."

Chiaki shrank in on himself and ignored the admonition, turning instead to pretend to be programming the copier. "…So what do we do now?" When Yuu didn't respond, he clarified, "I mean, we can't keep going on dates and just wait until something happens one way or another—it's too expensive for one, and finding a block of time we both have free is next to impossible." When Yuu still didn't respond after a moment, he turned around in a huff, raising his brows. "Well?"

Yuu, calm as ever, just shrugged. "I dunno. I'm mostly just winging this whole thing myself." When Chiaki's dejection was obvious in his face, he ran a hand through his hair. "I guess just…spend time together? Like always? We don't have to go to the movies or a game center or anything to figure out if we're compatible, after all."

Chiaki nodded blankly before narrowing his eyes in confusion. "But…how is that any different from what we usually do?"

"How was the date any different?" Yuu shrugged. "It's not about what we _do_ , you realize? It's about how we treat one another, just spending time around each other and you understanding how I feel about you, me trying to figure out how you feel about me." He sighed shortly, releasing a breath through his nose, and turned to head back into the studio.

Chiaki took a few tentative steps after him. "Umm—tonight."

"Hm?"

"Tonight…I was just going to order pizza and stay in to work, but…if you want to come over…"

Yuu paused, halfway in the room and in the hall. "…'If I want to come over'…what?"

Chiaki flushed; he hated it when Yuu played dumb. "It's obviously an invitation. If you don't want to come over then say so. Not like it affects me."

Yuu snorted and shook his head. "You just want someone to cook dinner for you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed back to the studio. "But I'll take it."

Chiaki opened his mouth to protest, but then realized any response he gave—affirmative or negating—would be neither entirely truth nor entirely a lie.

Regardless, they were still met with confused stares when Kurihara-san asked them what had happened to the copies they'd gone to make.

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a blur of manga panels, color prints, late-night finishing sprees, and coffee shop editing sessions. Yuu had been spirited away to work in Sekiguchi-sensei's studio, as he'd mentioned, but more often than not he either texted or turned up unannounced at the entrance to the studio just as Chiaki was heading out, toting a box of donuts or some other sweet treat that he knew Chiaki would be thrilled for.

It wasn't as if they spent every evening together—some days Tori came over to cook, or Chiaki was dragged out drinking with the assistants despite his every effort to decline, or Yuu had a previous engagement or errands to run—but they did both make conscious efforts to accommodate the other, such that Chiaki somehow found himself actually thinking of Yuu in his spare time.

Wasn't that…good, then? Wasn't that a sign that you were falling for someone? Sure, most of the time these thoughts consisted of _I wonder what Yuu'll make next time… I hope it's not that seafood chowder again. I hate oysters—but I don't want to tell him…_ and _Yuu needs to finish the wine he's got here already before bringing over new bottles when he knows I won't drink it…_ Still, it was better than nothing, right?

Except even in the few weeks since starting their tentative relationship, Chiaki didn't honestly _feel_ like anything had changed. It was still normal hanging out with Yuu. They hadn't been on anything resembling a date again (not that either had the time to spare just now), and while Chiaki wouldn't deny that his heart started beating a bit faster when they sat close together, he eventually calmed and forgot, again, that there was anything different in their relationship than exactly what it had been over the years. The only thing really reminding him of Yuu's feelings was the occasional kiss that Chiaki allowed when time and space deemed it appropriate—usually helped along by one or the both being a bit tipsy.

Yuu hadn't tried to kiss him again like he had those weeks before—which Chiaki was not sure he was glad or disappointed for—and while kissing was _something_ , admittedly, it wasn't exactly forcing Chiaki to consider his feelings on the whole matter in general. And he _wanted_ to—he wanted _something_ to happen that shocked him, confused him, forced him to confront whatever was between them now and make a decision. It wasn't fair to either one of them for six months to pass and Chiaki still be left feeling like _Well, I like kissing Yuu, but…I still don't know._

Such an impetus came on the 26th.

Yuu was scheduled to start back at Chiaki's studio from the next day, but—unable to wait to get started—Yuu had invited Chiaki over for dinner and a planning session. "I've missed Chiaki's manga," he'd offered by way of explanation, and while Chiaki was a bit dubious as to his taste (and convinced the guy was more than a little biased) he still complied, as free food was free food.

Dinner—fish filets and sauteed vegetables—was not only passable, Chiaki actually couldn't help the soft exclamation of, "This is good…!" that escaped him when he took a tentative bite, wincing when Yuu kicked him under the table and told him not to sound so surprised.

Yuu made a beeline for the couch after dinner, telling Chiaki to leave the dishes and that he wanted to get a look at the latest panels as quickly as possible. Chiaki fidgeted, unsure of what to do for a few moments, before he slipped down onto the couch beside Yuu and finished off the nearly empty beer he'd had with dinner. "…So?"

"Mmm, I guess you don't need me after all…"

Chiaki pinched him on the arm, the nearest bit of exposed flesh he could reach. "Don't say that; there's still a mountain of work left to do with your name all over it. You're not getting off that easily since you seem so eager to do it."

Yuu looked up, brows furrowed. "You left work unfinished, not even knowing if I'd be around to do it? What if it slipped my mind or I got roped into working for another author?"

Chiaki shrugged, tipping back his chin to grab the last few drops. "You wouldn't forget—and you definitely wouldn't let yourself go off with another author. I trust you." Yuu raised a brow. "And no remarks about being too trusting."

"Yes, sir…" They spread out the half-finished panels on the low table by the sofa, with Chiaki pointing out the areas he'd entrusted to Yuu and bits that he was going to try and finish himself but that he might need to call Yuu up in the middle of the night and beg his help on.

After a few hours, they'd settled into a comfortable silence, the only sound between the two of them the _scritch scritch_ of pencils on paper and the muffled sounds of next door neighbors getting a bit too rowdy for the late hour. After drafting a few new pages of panels to review with Tori at their next meeting, Chiaki flexed his hand, wincing at the cramp, and shook it to loosen his muscles.

"You okay?" Chiaki nodded silently and glanced over to the far wall to check the time.

"Ah—crap…" Yuu gave him a confused look, less laced with worry. "No, just—" He waved his hand at the clock on the wall. "My local line shuts down pretty early. I probably won't make it before the last train at this rate…"

"Ah…" Yuu agreed. "…Want me to call you a taxi? Or you gonna take one from the nearest station?"

Chiaki tossed his sketchbook and writing utensils onto the coffee table, stretching largely. "Nah—it's not a big deal." Yuu raised a brow. "Let me crash here—we're both going into the studio in the morning, after all."

There was a long stretch of silence which Chiaki used to relax into the ample cushions of Yuu's couch; he could really use a piece of furniture like this—but then, he probably wouldn't get any actual work done and would just wind up falling asleep whenever he—

"…Chiaki…"

He opened one eye and regarded Yuu curiously, then pushed himself up into a seated position. "What?" Yuu just continued to look like he was warring with a dozen different emotions at once: confusion, guilt, hope, worry, _desire_ —

" _Oh_ —geez, I mean—well obviously I didn't mean like _that_ , I just thought I'd save a few thousand yen on a taxi ride is all, and we're going to the same place in the morning, but—no, you're right, I should—"

Yuu just rolled his eyes and lifted from the sofa in one smooth motion. "Don't freak out. You just surprised me." He crossed the room, headed towards his bedroom. "You can take the bed; you're a guest after all."

Chiaki immediately followed, nearly tripping over himself in his race to get up, not realizing how unsteady his feet were. "Eh? No way!" He found Yuu pulling out an old t-shirt and pair of sleep pants, tossing them in Chiaki's face. He sputtered his indignance. "The couch is fine; you and Tori never took my bed when you slept over before."

"You never _offered_ it, Chiaki," he reminded dryly. "You kind of suck at basic manners that way." Chiaki flushed, and Yuu snorted. "Relax; it's hardly the worst breach in social etiquette you've ever committed." Chiaki almost wanted to ask what _had_ been the worst, but wisely reconsidered this.

"But…still…" he protested, clutching the borrowed sleep clothes to his chest. "It's your house. I'll feel like a jerk sleeping in a nice, comfortable bed while the host's stuck on the couch."

"It's one night; the couch isn't going to swallow me up or anything. It's not like I'm on the floor without a futon or something. Unless you'd rather I pull a couple of those out?" Chiaki hesitated instinctively, his longing for a comfortable night's sleep momentarily overpowering his desire to be a polite guest, before shaking his head. "Well I'm not taking the bed."

"Well—I'm not either." Yuu could be stubborn, but so could he, and he stood his ground under Yuu's annoyed gaze.

After a beat, Yuu reminded him, "…Well we can't _both_ take the bed."

"And we can't _both_ take the couch."

Another long pause, as realization dawned on them both. "…So, the first person to claim the couch gets it, then." And in a flash they were both off scrambling, Yuu nearly shoving Chiaki to the floor in an effort to squeeze past him out the bedroom door. Chiaki dropped his handful of clothes and grabbed on tight—one arm linked around Yuu's own and the other grabbing a fistful of shirt so that Yuu had to bodily drag Chiaki along with him.

He eventually managed to disentangle himself from Chiaki's grasp on his arm, but the guy refused to be budged from his grip on Yuu's shirt and instead twined their legs together, sending them both toppling to the floor—cushioned by a soft rug—in an uncomfortable heap. Yuu attempted to use the shock of the fall to gain the upper hand, laughing loudly when he managed to scramble just out of Chiaki's reach, but was quickly foiled when Chiaki wrapped two arms around his waist and let himself fall backwards, pulling Yuu down with him until they were a heavy-breathing, giggly mess on the floor together.

"You…fight dirty…" Yuu laughed breathily, heaving himself up with both hands to keep from crushing Chiaki beneath him.

"Well you…fight like a girl, so…" Chiaki tried to counter, cheeks flushed with the effort and breath coming in long, slow pants, but his words caught in his throat when he realized that Yuu was leaning over him on all fours, straddling his torso and with one hand on either side of Chiaki's face, staring down with the strangest expression—relief, excitement, joy, worry, nerves all gelling together into one fluid mixture that sent a shiver through Chiaki.

A beat of silence passed between them, the air filled with nothing but their heavy, slowing breathing as they both calmed and yet stayed alert, at the ready, and Chiaki couldn't help wondering what Yuu was thinking—as he was obviously thinking _something_ , since he hadn't moved, was just sitting here, body covering Chiaki's own, staring and waiting. Waiting.

And then he obviously got tired of waiting and let his elbows bend, angle contracting to bring their faces closer, and Chiaki's heart rate rose, as he made a conscious effort to sink into the floor, mind still fluttering about wildly trying to make sense of what was going on and what exactly he wanted to do. "W-wait—!" he managed, voice nothing more than a shaking, pathetic squeak, and he closed his eyes in panic.

…And nothing came. When he opened them again, Yuu was still there, hovering, but no longer seeming to be waiting. The nerves and hope and confusion were gone from his face, replaced now by guilt and rejection and shame at being so obvious. _No, no—it's not that_ Chiaki wanted to reassure him, even though he wasn't entirely sure what _that_ was.

But Yuu probably thought Chiaki'd rejected his advances—which okay sure, he _had_ , but not because he didn't _want_ them so much as he just needed a minute, dammit, a minute to process what was going on, he didn't need to be swept away by the heat of the moment again, because that usually led to him doing stupid things like kissing Yuu in photobooths or kissing Yuu on the couch or kissing Yuu in any other number of inappropriate situations.

Or…huh. Maybe he needed just that. He blinked a few times in slow realization, releasing a soft _ah…_ that did wonders to shift Yuu's hurt expression to one of wary confusion.

Sitting here _thinking_ so damn much was doing nothing but giving him a headache. No matter how he looked at it, Yuu was a friend—aesthetically pleasing and charming and smart and hard-working and a _guy_. But—regardless, Chiaki still enjoyed spending time with him, more so now than he had before Yuu had confessed and started putting his whole self into wooing Chiaki, if he thought about it. And even if he _didn't_ think about it, the kissing thing wasn't all that bad if he gave himself over to it, forgetting for just a moment all of the baggage their relationship carried around and instead just enjoying the warm comfort of being adored and the fluttering heartbeat that came with knowing you'd just made someone happy beyond their wildest dreams. He liked that feeling—a lot.

He really did like the way Yuu looked when they were together, the way his smile got a little softer and more genuine, the way he didn't change himself at all and yet still changed so much. Maybe he thought he didn't adopt a different attitude when they were alone, but Chiaki saw the subtle little signs, the way Yuu was light on his feet and quick with his wit and worked with zeal at whatever task was set before him, up and begging for more work or conversation the moment he'd finished, like a dog seeking praise. If it'd been anyone else, Chiaki might have thought it was cute. As it was, he didn't quite know _what_ to think…

Above him, Yuu's expression hardened, gaze fading away and cooling, and he opened his mouth, trying to grasp something to say. Chiaki clenched a fist at his side, not sure what he wanted to do with it—shove Yuu away, punch him in the jaw—

Or just reach up and thread his fingers through Yuu's hair, brushing across his scalp and settling at the nape of his neck, exerting the briefest sensation of pressure to guide him back down while Chiaki took a breath and pulled himself up, tilting his head to the side and letting his lower jaw fall open just enough so that he didn't have to spell out to Yuu that he'd better not screw this up, because he probably wasn't going to be this brave again.


	10. Chapter 10

_Yuu smiles when he kisses me…_

It was the last remotely coherent thought Chiaki would be allowed for some time, but it was warm and made his chest tighten with nerves and excitement, and buoyed in this manner, he found he didn't really mind so much the embarrassing little whimper he released when Yuu captured his lips like he had that first night.

He hadn't thought he'd been missing that feeling—his blood running hot through his body, out to his limbs and back, curdling in his chest and stomach and leaving him with that same unsatisfied, unfulfilled sensation like when someone brushes a ticklish spot—but now with Yuu's lips on his own and one hand brushing fingers lightly along Chiaki's arm, down to his wrist and back up, dragging along the thin material of his shirt to tug down at the hem before fisting in the material, it was… _shit_ he was going to get carried away again.

He felt the rise of panic in the back of his throat, acid-like bile choking him and warning him away, and he tensed beneath Yuu's lips, half ready to call the whole thing off—

"Yuu…"

…Was that _his_ voice? _His_ voice wavering and breathy and desperate and—so _foreign_?

Yuu shuddered and pulled back, nose brushing Chiaki's and licking his lips in uncertainty. Through a haze of confusion and steadily mounting desire, Chiaki noticed him struggling for words, probably latching onto the last thread of rationality between them and about to suggest they call it an evening.

" _No_ no no no," Chiaki muttered, and he grabbed what material he could just at the collar of Yuu's shirt and pulled him back down, covering his lips and thrusting a tongue inside, trying to remember the exquisite sensations and how best to stroke and slide and nip and suck and encourage the other party to do the same.

He felt Yuu relax a bit, tension draining and shifting into action, smoothly guiding Chiaki down a winding path that had his head spinning. So what if he got carried away? Nothing ever happened to people who sat around on the sidelines, and he just needed to stop _thinking_ , because he tended to _overthink_ when he did that, and a relationship, he was realizing, was something that needed to develop under the warmth of spontaneity, not calculated risk and scheduled dates with rules and regulations.

Yuu was ready to throw his whole self into trying to win Chiaki over, ready to be bold and brash and take chances, while Chiaki was struggling to walk a fine line between friend and more-than-friend. Sooner or later, he was going to have to fall one way or the other—he just needed to blur his vision, blank his mind, and let go and see what happened.

He released what he hoped was an encouraging whimper, lost somewhere in their kisses, and tried to mirror what Yuu had done to him, letting his fingers skitter up and down Yuu's torso, sliding up the long line of his neck to cup at the nape before falling back away and stroking the bare arm straining to keep Yuu from toppling entirely onto Chiaki.

Yuu was warm, so warm—his breath, his skin, the very air around him and between their bodies, and it set Chiaki's pulse to racing. This whole exchange was very quickly becoming less a question of _how do I do this with my best friend?_ and more one of _how can I get him to do more?_

He needed more contact, more of that warmth—and he moved to slowly, subtly twist his body to bring their legs together instead of just lying here like a dead tuna. His thighs brushed against Yuu's calf as he pulled his legs up to brace them flat against the floor, and his knee angled up, sending a shiver through Chiaki when Yuu shifted and brushed against it with his crotch, releasing a sharp hiss and clamping a hand over himself. "Shit, don't—" Yuu bit his lip and shook his head.

"You're…" Chiaki swallowed, almost not even wanting to voice it. "You're…hard."

Yuu laughed, dry and wry and not amused in the slightest. "We've been making out for the past two minutes. Of course I am." He took a deep breath and leaned down, pressing a kiss to the sensitive strip of skin just in front of Chiaki's ear, leaving a line stretching down to the nape of his neck. "Ignore it…"

Except it was quite late for that now, and Chiaki's stomach jumped up into his throat with the churning realization that he was _turning Yuu on_. This wasn't just kissing and a bit of light petting to relieve some tension—it was foreplay, and whether Yuu meant to take it any further or not, his body was responding to Chiaki's touch in very obvious ways.

It was a bit…thrilling, really. Confusing and overwhelming to be sure, but… He pressed his knee just inside again, pushing up his hips a bit to reach the bulge without crushing it, and here Yuu let out a strangled cry that he quickly stifled, pressing down to follow Chiaki's knee with a small thrust of his own before he caught himself, shaking his head again. "Chiaki—shit, stop doing that."

"…Why?" Yuu stared at him, gape-mouthed and flushed. "It feels good doesn't it?" Yuu was always so concerned with Chiaki's comfort, being sure not to push too far or ask for too much, always holding himself back and keeping his emotions in check for fear of seeming too eager. How fair was that? When it would be so simple… "I…I can touch you…if you want."

Touching was…a step, but it wasn't something unfamiliar. A man was a man, and Chiaki knew how to get off with a hand—it was only a matter of adapting his style to account for the lack of self-awareness, inability to respond to his own desires and instead focus on reading another's. He swallowed a lump in his throat and held eye contact with Yuu, who looked ready to faint or slap Chiaki or kiss him or perhaps do all three.

But he said nothing, and Chiaki took a breath and pushed himself up slowly, forcing Yuu to lean backwards until they'd reached an angle sufficient to allow Chiaki to slip a hand between them, trying to hide the way his fingers were trembling and greased with nervous sweat.

"…No," Yuu called softly, voice rough and shaking right by his ear, and Chiaki twisted in place to face Yuu, offended at being pushed away when he'd worked himself up to this point.

Yuu stopped him with another kiss before he could protest, using his whole upper body to topple Chiaki nearly flat back to the rug before rucking his shirt up with one hand, spreading his fingers and brushing a broad, flat palm over the sensitive abdominal muscles bared beneath him. Chiaki's skin jumped at the sensation, and Yuu snickered at his reaction. "No…you don't have to do that."

"I—" _want to, though_ he almost snapped, instead checking himself and biting out, "I _know that_." He whined sharply when Yuu ran a finger just under the hem of his pants, tugging at the stiff material teasingly. "Wh…what're you…"

"Let _me_ touch _you_ , Yoshino-sensei…"

"Oh great, now I have to deal with your authority kink?" Chiaki growled breathily, pressing his legs together to stifle the blood flow headed straight to his groin. "Wh—y not?" he huffed, frowning. "If I'm offering, I don't see…"

Yuu chuckled, low and rough but still laced with genuine mirth, and he pressed a soft, surprisingly gentle kiss to Chiaki's lips while his fingers made quick work of the button and zip on Chiaki's pants. "If you touch me, I'll come right away."

Oh _fuck_ —a line like that shouldn't, by any account, have been sexy at all, but Chiaki went momentarily boneless at the admission, arms trembling with the weight of trying to keep himself sitting up until he was forced to slide back down flat on his back. He covered his eyes with one arm for a few moments, basking in the comfort and quiet of sheer blackness, until Yuu urged him to lift his hips, guiding him up to pull his pants down further so Yuu could have full, unhindered access for whatever he was planning to do.

What the hell was he doing? They were supposed to be discussing storyboard progression or brushing their teeth getting ready to turn in—he wasn't supposed to be sprawled on his back with his legs spread on Yuu's rug and his shirt hiked halfway up his torso waiting for Yuu to jerk him off—

"Oh— _what the hell—_ " He could be forgiven his surprise, because most would probably react that way if someone started sucking on their cock out of nowhere.

He scrambled up onto his elbows, staring down in horror as Yuu calmly and methodically bobbed up and down on the first few inches of Chiaki's cock, pausing at the tip to work up a bit of saliva which he then spread around the crown and then down the shaft to rinse and repeat. At the base, one hand scraped Yuu's filed nails teasingly around the shaft, tracing the sensitive sack hanging beneath now and then to keep things interesting.

Chiaki wanted to scream for a million different reasons, and his face was flaming red—this wasn't just something you _sprang on someone without notice_ —but he still held his tongue, half scared he'd send Yuu running if he seemed the least bit reluctant. Worse still was the fact that it felt _fucking amazing_ and he probably should've expected that Yuu's tongue, talented enough at kissing, would be just as adept at wringing the most sensational shivers from Chiaki in other respects too. That is, if he'd ever had reason to consider how good Yuu might be at giving head, which was, suffice to say, fairly low on his list of things to think about.

But he kind of _had_ to think about it now—or at least confront it, because there was very little in the way of _thinking_ going on in Chiaki's mind when he was trying not to be a rude recipient of oral favors and thrust up into Yuu's mouth.

The guy looked unconscionably good, he couldn't help but notice—not because of what he was doing so much as the sheer _concentration_ he was giving the task, as if every cell, every nerve in his body was tense and taut and focused only on drawing out as much pleasure through Chiaki's cock as was physically possible, cheeks puffing out and drawing in to create a vacuum that had Chiaki panting and heaving in an altogether embarrassing manner.

He pounded his fist on the floor pathetically when Yuu pulled off of him to press in closer, giving a perfunctory lick to his hand and treating Chiaki to a few quick, feverish strokes, faster and more satisfying than Yuu's mouth had been. "Y-Yuu…" He bit back a groan. "You…you too…"

Yuu smiled, shaking his head, but not in a dismissive manner. "Chiaki's such an altruist…" he whispered, and leaned back to give himself enough room to maneuver a hand down his own pants, shuffling to pull the hem down just enough for Chiaki to catch sign of a stiff, straining cock that looked about to burst, before Yuu had his hand working it with quick, expert attentions.

With both hands flying—even left-handed, Yuu was close enough he probably didn't need much stimulation—slicked along by saliva and streams of leaking semen, it was mere moments before Chiaki was warning of his climax in broken speech, spilling an embarrassingly large amount, cock still twitching and giving pathetic spurts as Yuu slowly milked him dry long after Yuu himself had climaxed into his own hand, neat and clean without a drop spilled on the rug.

He leaned forward on one elbow, teetering dangerously above Chiaki, who had but a moment to consider the fact that the lips descending on his own had just been around his cock—and ah fuck, what did it really matter at this point? He let his mouth fall open and slid his hand up to cup at the back of Yuu's head, enjoying the deep kiss significantly more in the wake of a satisfying orgasm. Yuu released him with a final light peck at the corner of his lips, whispering an invitation to clean up in the bathroom. Chiaki nodded woozily, taking a few deep breaths himself before attempting to stand, and marveling at Yuu's seemingly inhuman ability to function so flawlessly that soon after coming. Or maybe Chiaki had just never been that utterly drained.

His brain wasn't even functioning properly just yet—he realized somewhere, from far away, that this was _weird_ , that it was embarrassing and overwhelming and that he'd let the whole situation get away from him somehow or another, and yet…just right now, he really didn't want to think about that sort of thing. Yuu had enjoyed it, he'd enjoyed it, and there'd be plenty of time tomorrow to be awkward around one another and worry and wonder when or if it was appropriate to do that sort of thing now and then in the future.

On jelly legs, he lifted himself up and tucked himself back into his underwear, gingerly pulling his pants up but not bothering to zip. He shuffled through the bedroom door through which he'd seen Yuu disappear, blinking a few times in the dim light when he left the living room.

"In here," Yuu called from the far side of the room, and Chiaki followed the sound of running water to find Yuu squeezing a dollop of toothpaste onto a toothbrush before shoving it in his mouth and scrubbing away. "'ou 'ould 'ah uh—" He pointed to a wash cloth hanging from a towel rack before spitting into the sink and repeating. "Just wet it down and wipe off. You can toss it into the laundry basket and I'll deal with it later." Chiaki nodded dully and did as instructed while Yuu gargled with some mouthwash now.

They finished their respective routines, and Chiaki sought a bit of privacy in the bedroom while Yuu finished up, changing into the night clothes he'd borrowed. The t-shirt and sleep bottoms were light and warm but not scratchy or stifling, and in the dark of the bedroom, he took a deep breath, finally relaxing after the rather _exciting_ evening.

He blinked slowly and eyed the bed accusingly. The damn thing sure had a lot of nerve, being all inviting and comfortable-looking and begging Chiaki to just crawl under the covers and snuggle in until morning. And Yuu _had_ offered it…

Except it was still _Yuu's bed_ , and even after doing what they'd just done, it still felt just…impolite. He was always imposing—on both Yuu and Tori—and they always bent and complied with his every little request or demand (Yuu with less complaining than Tori, though). He was a hopeless man of nearly thirty years, and here he was still kicking his friend out of his own bed because he was too oblivious to realize the imposition of staying overnight in the apartment of someone he knew had feelings for him.

He sighed loudly and flopped down onto the bed, breathing in the scent deeply—it smelled like flowers; Yuu'd just washed the sheets.

He didn't dwell on wondering why.

Frowning, he rolled over and rucked up the comforter, sliding underneath it smoothly and turning his back to the bathroom door, where he could hear Yuu finishing up his nightly ritual. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to make his breathing smooth and shallow, feigning sleep.

He heard the soft _click_ of the light going out in the bathroom and the light squeak of the floorboards as Yuu stepped out, took note of Chiaki, and gathered up some bedding to head back into the living room.

"…Just get in the bed, Yuu," Chiaki grumbled sleepily, not rolling over or even opening his eyes. He heard the creaking pause as Yuu considered the offer, and added, "…And you'd better not try anything funny."

A soft sigh. "Yes, sir…"

Chiaki couldn't promise anything beyond that he would try, try to be open and accepting and give proper consideration to Yuu's feelings—but just right now, his feelings and Yuu's happened to coincide, so why not take it for what it meant and enjoy it while it lasted?

He felt the bed dip beside him as Yuu slid in, noting that the guy was being a proper gentleman and keeping well to his own side. After a few moments, Yuu's breathing evened out behind him, and Chiaki chanced rolling over onto his back, cocking his head to the side to see Yuu rolled towards him, eyes closed and breathing deep and even. He looked completely at ease—and Chiaki supposed that was a given; he'd made out pretty well tonight, all things considered, while Chiaki was just left feeling more confused than ever.

He frowned—lucky bastard. Rolling over gently to face Yuu fully, he let his head fall against the pillow and settled his hand on the bed between the two of them, resisting the urge to reach out and pinch Yuu's cheek in revenge for making him feel this way. Instead, he just grunted and shifted back to his other side and scrunched his eyes shut tight. Sleep—he needed to sleep. He had a full day of work tomorrow and it was already later than was proper.

"…really, really love you, Chiaki…" came a mumbled, muffled confession from behind, and Chiaki stiffened, heart beating a loud tattoo in his chest that he couldn't swallow around. Sleep talk? Some kind of a 'thank you' for letting Yuu feel him up on the living room rug? Just Yuu being Yuu?

He ignored the comment, and no more followed, only a soft, heavy silence settling around the room, broken now and then by the sounds of the neighborhood floating through the thin window panes. Still, his throat remained dry and his body tense, his heart beating loud and steady in his chest, so much so that he was sure Yuu must hear it.

He'd _really_ been in shoujo manga far too long if a cheesy, simple confession that he'd heard a dozen times before from the same guy was making him feel like this now.

More frustrating still was that he didn't entirely dislike it, either.


	11. Chapter 11

When Chiaki awoke, it was to an unfamiliar alarm clock buzzing and sunlight hitting his face from an unusual angle. He frowned into the pillow and buried his head deeper, groaning softly.

"Rise and shine, _dear_ ," came a sing-song voice from the other side of the spacious bed, and Chiaki froze, trying to piece together in his mind just whose voice that was and why everything felt so _off_.

The sheets around him smelled clean and starched, and the pillow was fluffier than he remembered, and he'd chosen his apartment specifically because the bedroom window faced _south_ which meant he didn't get sunlight in his eyes in the morning like he was now.

Oh. _Fuck_. He'd spent the night at Yuu's place last night. Spent the night, after...

He felt the bed dip behind him as a body leaned near, radiating warmth. A low voice whispered by his ear, "I'll give you a kiss if you wake up…" And Yuu must have been _mental_ if he thought that was any sort of incentive, but then he added after a moment, snorting, "…Okay, fine. I'll give you a kiss if you _don't_ wake up, how's that?"

Chiaki immediately rolled nearly off the side of the bed, flipping over and shoving Yuu away, frowning and rubbing at his ear where Yuu's breath had tickled. "That's a pretty crappy way to wake someone up, you know."

"I thought it was a very nice way. I had a few other ideas, though, if you'd rather I try those in the future?" He raised his brows, and Chiaki flushed, letting his mind wander where Yuu was leading it. "It's 7:30; what're you gonna do about the studio?"

Chiaki sat up cross-legged on the bed. "Eh?"

"The studio? The others'll be arriving by 9—are you just gonna shower here and wear the same clothes as yesterday?" He cocked his head. "…Because I don't mind lending you my shower, but…"

Chiaki screwed up his face, thinking, then shook his head. "I'll just go back to my apartment and get ready there—oh, but—" His eyes brightened. "…Can I have breakfast?"

In just over another hour, Yuu had prepared a meager Western breakfast of bacon and eggs, politely listening to Chiaki prattle on about where he was thinking of taking the plot for his manga over the next few chapters while giving feedback that was decidedly more pleasantly delivered than Tori's typically was. Chiaki knocked back the last of his juice with a loud sigh and trotted into the kitchen with his plate, brushing the crumbs into the trash before passing the dirty dish to Yuu where he stood at the sink washing dishes. "Between you and Tori, I'll never have to get married!"

Yuu smirked and shook his head. "No woman would take you; you'll have to settle for one of us, I guess." He shook the lather from his hands and grabbed a towel, twisting to regard Chiaki face-on. "And I'm the only one who's offering."

Chiaki frowned and darted away before Yuu could catch the blush on his cheeks, packing his things in the living room quickly. "You've got a key to the studio, yeah?"

"Yup."

"I'll only be an hour and a half behind you, two at most."

"I'm sure we'll soldier on without our Yoshino-sensei somehow," Yuu assured him, waxing dramatic, and Chiaki turned to face him while he situated his bag at his hip. Yuu reached forward and adjusted his collar, fiddling with the lapels. "Eating and running—you're a horrible houseguest, Chiaki."

Chiaki balked. "I…well, I _am_ grateful for you letting me stay over, and I always appreciate you making me meals, and—"

"I'm kidding," Yuu snorted, shaking his head, then clapped Chiaki on the shoulders. "Beautiful. But you smell. Go take a shower."

Brows wrinkling in offense, Chiaki returned, "I wouldn't have had to stay over in the first place if you'd kept an eye on the time."

"Mmm, but then we couldn't have…" His grin grew positively devilish, only urged on by the way Chiaki seemed to redden in embarrassment. "You're adorable."

"I'm also going to be late if I don't leave."

"No one's stopping you." He held a hand out towards the door. "Unless you wanted something else before you left?"

Chiaki's frown was resolute. "…You sure get cocky when you get your way."

"This is by no means cocky. This is…relieved."

"'Relieved'?" Chiaki parroted, and Yuu nodded. "…What's that supposed to mean?"

Yuu took him by the shoulders and turned him around, steering him from the living room into the genkan area. "Aren't you going to be late?"

Chiaki let the obvious aversion tactic go. "Yeah—if Tori comes by before I get there, tell him I'll be in around mid-day."

"Yes, sir…"

"And—" He turned back around to face Yuu while he toed on his trainers—finding himself nearly chest-to-chest with Yuu, close enough to smell the subtle trace of ketchup on his breath from the omelet he'd made himself earlier. "…Ah, sorry."

"…For what?"

"…Nothing." He licked his lips. "I'll…see you at the studio."

"Yeah." They didn't move for a moment, a beat of silence which lasted just long enough to grow awkward. "…Chiaki, I—"

" _Geez_ , if you're gonna do it, just _do it_ ," he groused, arms crossed and gaze shifted off to the side so he didn't have to see the look of honest confusion on Yuu's face. "I can practically hear you thinking about it."

"Sorry…" Yuu apologized, though the look on his face clearly showed he didn't quite know what he was apologizing for. "…I just…"

Chiaki rolled his eyes and reached up to cup the back of Yuu's neck, lifting onto his toes to press their lips gently together. He dropped his mouth open just a hair to apply the lightest bit of pressure, and then pulled back. He didn't wipe his mouth this time. "There. Thank you for letting me stay over." He realized it sounded like he was "paying" for the favor with his body, but it was too late to explain it away. "I'll see you in a bit."

"A bit" turned out to be 11:30, and by the time Chiaki arrived, clean and fresh and sipping on an energy drink, Yuu and the other assistants were gabbing merrily as they worked, greeting Chiaki with a chorus of _good morning_ when he entered. He ducked his head in apology for being late, threw Yuu a bashful glance, and settled in at his desk.

The energy of the studio—less tense and more excited and on-top-of things than usual—helped clear Chiaki's head. He didn't need to worry about sleepovers or omelets for breakfast or Yuu brushing his teeth after a blowjob or awkward kisses in the genkan—nope, none of that at all. He swallowed and shook his head, rifling through his bag for the panels he and Yuu had been going over the night before.

The night before…

 _Fuck_. He wasn't going to get anything done today if he spent the whole work day spacing out every five minutes thinking about fooling around with Yuu because they had both been a little tipsy after dinner and the moment had just been right. But this wasn't like a little kissing on Chiaki's doorstep after an awkward first date, or even like a soft, sweet peck in the copy room. This was bigger, more real, with more serious consequences.

He hadn't let himself think when it had all been happening, but now the light of day was shining bright on them, and here they were, together again in the studio, and now all Chiaki could focus on was the chill of the close air in Yuu's apartment on his bare skin contrasting with the warmth of human body heat where Yuu hovered over him, stroking the both of them and splattering Chiaki's stomach with evidence of the line they crossed.

He knew he should feel more guilty about it, about going that far with Yuu when he didn't even know if he would ever be able to give Yuu the kind of reciprocation, the emotion in a relationship he very obviously wanted, but…somehow, he couldn't muster up those feelings. Instead he felt a little sick, but not in a bad way—a pleasant way, a bit of nausea that reminded Chiaki of the way it felt when you rode on a roller coaster and flipped upside down. Excitement, confusion, heart-in-the-throat, and underneath it all—

 _knock knock_ "Yoshino-sensei?"

"Eh?" Chiaki glanced up, breathing harder than was entirely appropriate for almost noon, especially when to any onlooker it looked like he was getting excited over a panel detailing the heroine's junior high graduation ceremony. People were going to talk. "Ah—Tori?"

Hatori gave polite nods around the room, patently ignoring Yuu (who was doing the same, earbuds in blasting some boyband tune and glasses perched high on his nose as he pored over his work) and holding up a plastic bag heavy with goods. "I've brought _sashiire_ for you all, if that's fine…?" He looked to Chiaki for approval, brows lifting and a soft smile on his face—an expression so utterly foreign that Chiaki took a beat to realize he was even being spoken to.

"Oh, uh—sure, I guess?" He glanced at the others, whose eyes were big and round and eyeing the treats hungrily. "You didn't have to…"

"I was in the neighborhood," he replied simply, unpacking what turned out to be a dozen donuts from a nearby fancy bakery and two liters of tea which he proceeded to pour into small paper cups, ever the gentleman.

Chiaki regarded him warily, wandering over for a closer look; when he glanced over at Yuu, he found his friend watching the scene with similar concern, raising a questioning brow at Chiaki, who just shrugged.

Ever since their fight in the cafe, Hatori had been…distant. He had never been one to behave so childishly—that had always been Chiaki's role—so it had been a bit of a disappointment realizing that yes, his childhood friend was as human as everyone else. Hatori himself seemed to have noticed this as well and had stopped coming over or offering to make dinner—which had suited Chiaki fine, as he'd started spending more time at Yuu's place in the interim—and their meetings had been short, formal affairs that Hatori ended immediately after confirming his editing suggestions with Chiaki. For his part, Chiaki had lost his urge to fight, blankly taking in Hatori's recommendations with nods and short, pithy responses. It figured it had to come to a head at some point, but this…

"And for Yoshino-sensei as well." He flinched when Hatori presented him with a cup of tea, and the girls tittered their approval at the gesture. When Chiaki tentatively took the proffered cup, Hatori leaned forward and dropped his voice. "I'd like to speak in the hall, if that's all right."

Chiaki nodded mutely and followed Hatori into the hallway, casting a worried glance at Yuu, who met his eyes with concern but did nothing to object, returning quickly to his work.

He stepped into the hall past Hatori, who shut the door behind the two of them to give them some privacy, and before Chiaki could even question what he'd been taken aside for, Hatori was bent in half at the hip, face angled down to the floor and arms straight and stiff at this side. "I deeply apologize for my behavior these past few weeks."

The words were stiff and formal and so unlike anything Chiaki had ever heard fall out of Hatori's mouth in private—especially never directed at _him_. He nearly dropped his cup, so surprised was he at the sudden shift in attitude. "Eh— _eh_?

Hatori slowly straightened up, keeping his gaze cast to the side as if he somehow felt unworthy of facing Chiaki straight on; it was altogether quite unsettling. "I…understand. That I've been difficult the past few weeks, I mean. My behavior was unprofessional, and it was unacceptable as a friend as well." He hesitated. "I'm sorry, Yoshino."

And suddenly Chiaki felt like a giant ass. He hadn't really been worrying about this at all—he'd been distracted with the whole situation with Yuu—but Tori had been…obviously torn up about it. He was _Tori_ , though, so that meant he wasn't going to let it show, and Chiaki wondered how many nights he'd spent working up the nerve to let his pride take the day off and come and apologize, but still… Chiaki swallowed. "Really, it's…not that big a deal. I haven't been mad at you or anything. It was just…you caught me on a bad day was all, and we let it fester."

Hatori seemed to relax, shoulders slumping a bit in relief. "Still, I did act like a child, so if you'll accept my apology, then I suppose this whole thing will be behind us." Chiaki returned a small smile and nodded, taking a sip of the tea as a peace offering. "Thank goodness."

Chiaki raised a brow. "What, you thought I wouldn't take you back or something? You're my hard-ass editor; I can't function without you, you know that."

"All too well…" Hatori admitted, then cocked his head. "So you know how sincere I am—I'll come and make you dinner all this week."

Chiaki perked up instantly. "Eh? Not just one week's worth of meals?"

"Fresh; every night. I've got a business trip on Saturday, but I think I can manage to spare a couple of hours in the evenings before then."

"Awesome!" He crumpled up the empty paper cup. "So I can make requests, right?"

Hatori raised a brow and shifted in place, reaching for the door to head back into the studio. "You'll make requests anyways."

* * *

"Good work today!" Chiaki called to Kurihara-san and one of the other assistants, the last to leave for the day except for himself and Yuu. He'd been in markedly better spirits after Hatori's visit, mind focused more sharply on the upcoming promise of home-grilled yakiniku than on anything to do with the previous night's events, and he was actually humming a little tune as he packed up.

"…You're sure in a good mood," Yuu observed lightly, treading softly as he obviously had no idea what said good mood was for.

Chiaki nodded brightly. "Yup! Oh—" He realized here that Yuu was probably expecting to follow him home, or was pondering the appropriate moment to invite Chiaki over again. "Ah, sorry! I didn't mention earlier…" Yuu raised his brows in question. "It was Tori—when he was here earlier, he offered to cook me dinner tonight! Ah—well, actually, for the rest of the week."

"Wait—he _offered_ to do that?" A nod. "You didn't…beg and plead with him? Because I was under the impression that was when he did that sort of thing."

"An apology, he said."

"For what?"

Chiaki shrugged, feigning ignorance. "He's just been busy lately, hasn't had much time to give me advice on the plot or developments or anything." He latched his bag shut and slipped it over his shoulder. "So—for this week at least it'd probably be better if we didn't hang out." And everything that _hang out_ entailed. Hatori might know about the arrangement that Chiaki and Yuu were experimenting with, but the thought of sitting on Chiaki's couch and watching anime while making out during commercial breaks with Hatori puttering around the kitchen was…well, it just didn't sit well.

He glanced over to Yuu's station to be sure he understood the situation and found him leaning over his desk, brows furrowed and a frown on his face, very obviously not happy with the suggestion. "…Oi, what's wrong?" Yuu just sighed loudly and rolled off his seat, leaning over to busy himself with his own bag. Chiaki rolled his eyes at the display and sauntered over, leaning over the angled surface of the desk and resting his head on his folded arms, leering, "What's this? Yanase Yuu—are you _jealous_ that I'm spending time with another man?"

"Yes."

If he hadn't been supported by the drawing board, Chiaki would've slumped to the floor. Instead, he pushed himself backwards and sputtered, "Geez! Deny that kind of thing when someone accuses you of it!"

"Why should I? It was true."

Chiaki flushed. "Well—still! If you had any pride you'd deny it—"

"But being jealous shows how much I care for you, doesn't it?"

"It also shows how little confidence you have, you know." Yuu shrugged, but the emotion behind it was clearly one of disappointment. "…It's just dinner. He's been cooking meals for me since college. Hell, whenever _he_ wasn't cooking something for me, _you_ were! It doesn't have to mean anything—"

"He's in love with you."

The words hung heavy in the silent air between them, and Chiaki found he couldn't speak for several long moments, eventually only managing to muster a snort of disbelief. "Eh?" Yuu just continued to pack, straightening his desk area and checking to be sure his trash had been emptied and set out front. "You're not…" But his amusement quickly died away when the expression on Yuu's face didn't change. "…You're serious."

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Sometimes it's hard to tell with you."

"Well—" Yuu sighed, slipping his bag over his head. "I'm not. He's in love with you. Just like me—in case you were hoping it was some other sort of 'love'." Chiaki realized with a shudder that hadn't even occurred to him. He was obviously programmed now to assume anyone with feelings towards him must want in his pants; what a development. Yuu shook his head, scratching at his brow. "I know…I'm acting like an asshole. So just—ignore me. I can't ask you not to be alone with him or anything—I just…get nervous is all. You're going out of your way to give me this chance, but then…I overthink. Start to consider that hey, Hatori's got a better head on his shoulders, he can cook better, he's got a more stable job, and…he's known you longer. Start to think that…maybe you'll fall for him over me."

Chiaki jumped in here, having had enough. " _Hey._ First off, a reminder? I'm not falling for _anyone_ right now. And—" He held up a hand. "—before you even think of bringing up last night? I will grant you that…I didn't mind it much at the time, and it felt good, but…" He could feel his cheeks heating up and let his gaze steadily drop away from Yuu, trying not to think about the fact that they were completely alone right now. "But—I can't just build an entire relationship on the fact that you're— _good_ at that kind of thing." For once, Yuu didn't offer any sort of dirty remark to rile Chiaki up. "Tori's my friend. That's it. I'm not going to treat him any different just because he might like me."

It was only when he was already on the train, halfway home, that he realized he'd made himself the same promise when Yuu had confessed.

* * *

Unlike Chiaki, who seemed to have 'issues' with things like time and punctuality, Hatori arrived at precisely 8 PM, toting a plastic bag heavy with summer vegetables and a few sauces Chiaki didn't recognize. "Vegetable stir-fry; I figured the past few weeks you've probably either had take-out or something entirely unhealthy Yanase cooked up." Raking a quick glance over Chiaki, he added, "Doesn't seem I was wrong."

"Quit griping and get inside, geez," Chiaki grumbled, grabbing the bag and bringing it into the kitchen. "I'm not going to keel over or have a heart attack or something just because you leave me alone for a few days."

With his back to Hatori, Chiaki missed the subtle smile that graced his lips as he shook his head. "Could've fooled me."

He slipped on one of the spare aprons Chiaki kept around, complaining as he always did that Chiaki ought to be a nice host and at least pick up an apron that _fit_ Hatori if he was going to be around cooking as often as he had been over the years, and Chiaki apologized and agreed, assuring Hatori that he would definitely do just that—the same conversation they'd had for as long as either could remember. Chiaki settled in at the dining room table, sketching idly a few character designs he was planning on incorporating into an upcoming arc while Hatori chopped up vegetables on the counter nearby, trading conversation back and forth. It was...nice. Not tense, as the atmosphere had a tendency to get around Hatori sometimes; Chiaki half-wondered how hard he was working to be a decent conversation partner, since it didn't seem Hatori's style at all.

"So..." Hatori started, trying very obviously to be nonchalant, and failing. "I suppose things are...going well? With Yanase."

Chiaki's head shot up from where he'd been poring over an angle study, and his brows furrowed in confusion—but Hatori was still focused on the vegetables. Inside his head, Yuu's voice echoed ominously, _He's in love with you. He's in love with you. He's in love with you_. He swallowed and shook away the reminder, trying to play it casual.

"Ah, oh—I guess...? I don't suppose they're going badly..." He shrugged and tried to go back to his work. "I'm still not sure how I feel about him—if it's romantic or just platonic or what, but...I do like spending time with him—and, I guess it feels like we're getting closer?"

He glanced up to ascertain the effect of his words, and his chest clenched when he noticed Hatori's obvious discomfort, the furrows in his brow more prominent than usual and a trickle of sweat sliding down his temple. _Fuck_ , Yuu had been telling the truth. But Hatori wiped away the sweat and swallowed any snide comments he would have otherwise made: "I suppose...as long as you're happy, and it doesn't affect your work, then I won't say anything to stop you anymore."

There was a pause, the only sound the chopping of the knife against an onion. "...Even though that means you'll never have me?"

The sound stopped, and an even longer, more tense silence took its place. Hatori licked his lips. "...What are you talking about?"

Chiaki slumped in his chair, tossing his sketchbook onto the table. "You can stop playing dumb, you know. Yuu told me—about, how you feel about me."

The chopping resumed. "I really don't see how that's any of Yanase's business; it's not as if he has any idea of my feelings in the first place, so he really shouldn't go off spouting them as he pleases. It leads to misunderstandings."

Chiaki leaned forward onto the table, supporting his chin in one hand and using the other to roll a pencil forward and back across the wood. "...But it's true, isn't it? You love me."

"Of course I love you."

"You're _in love_ with me," Chiaki clarified, annoyed that Hatori was stooping to using every trick in the book to avoid broaching this topic. It was obvious Chiaki wasn't going to let it go, so there was no reason to keep playing these games. He never would have thought Hatori would react like this to any threat; he was always a man who met every issue head on—and then beat the crap out of it. But there was no such answering challenge now, only the dull _chop chop chop_ of the knife against the cutting board. "Well, anyways. I just wanted you to know is all—that it's fine with me. I can't really return your feelings...but you probably already knew that." He stole a glance at Hatori, wary and curious, but still was met with that same blank, uncaring mien. "I thought you should know at least. That I won't treat you any different just because you happen to like—"

"Just like how you didn't treat Yanase any different after you found out about his feelings?" He tossed the knife to the side, closing his eyes and leaning against the counter, mouthing something to himself.

Chiaki grew defensive. "Well—I mean, no one had ever confessed to me before. What was I supposed to do? I didn't know how to feel, or what to say. And I didn't want him to feel bad..." He trailed off, growing weary of making excuses for what he was starting to realize was, deep down, how he'd _wanted_ to respond to Yuu in the first place, even if he hadn't recognized it.

"But it’s fine if I feel bad?" Hatori's voice sounded small, as if from far away, and Chiaki found himself actually getting _angry_. Why was Hatori reacting like this? As if it was Chiaki's fault he could return one's feelings and not the other's? It _wasn't_ his fault, right?

He flushed with annoyance. "I can't help it, you know! I'm working hard to be able to give Yuu a firm answer, because—well, I don't know, okay? But—I do know...that he's the one who confessed his feelings for me. Not you. So he's the one who gets to try and make me fall for him."

"...And not me."

" _Geez_ , it's not like I'm—choosing one over the other, you know! But if you don't ever say anything, you can't sit around being pissed off you didn't get what you wanted." He paused to catch his breath, inhalations coming fast with the adrenaline, and he frowned when he saw Hatori's expression darken. "...And I'm pretty sure you know that."

Hatori reached for the knife with one hand and a bell pepper with the other, wiping his brow with one sleeve. "You're saying I'm a coward."

"When the hell did I say anything about that? All right, fine: read into it whatever you want. I don't care. But—stop giving me shit for honestly trying to work out my feelings for Yuu just because you're disappointed he got there _first_. I love you _both_ —as friends, if nothing more—and it makes me feel bad when I have to walk on eggshells around you just because I'm trying to do the right thing!"

Hatori tossed the remains of the pepper he'd just mutilated with tactical efficiency into a waiting fry pan, placing aside the knife and leaning forward onto the counter, head dropped low. From the table, Chiaki almost missed his next words.

"...Kiss me." Chiaki's heart was in his throat, keeping him from making even a noise of surprise, and Hatori continued. "Kiss me—because, if you can do all of this with Yanase not even knowing whether or not you care for him in the slightest way that he does for you, then... Then it should be the same. You should..." He trailed off, shaking his head—whether annoyed at himself or Chiaki or the situation, it wasn't clear.

It should be the same. It _should_ be the same. Yuu was a friend, Tori was a friend...and kissing a friend was _kissing a friend_. Uncomfortable, not _right_ , but...not impossible. And Chiaki had used kisses to ascertain his feelings before, so...

He swallowed, wincing, and shook his head, slowly at first to convince himself, then more vigorously to demonstrate his response. "I—I'm sorry. I just...I can't."

"...Why not?" It wasn't accusing, it wasn't protesting. It was just...a question. A simple question with no emotion behind it, like all Hatori wanted was a simple explanation when there _wasn't_ one, dammit. When Chiaki didn't respond quickly enough for his liking, Hatori probed, "...Is it because we've been friends for this long?"

"I...don't know. That's part of it, I think, but..."

"Is it because I'm a man, then?"

Chiaki wanted to laugh—bitter and dry. "I'm not even sure that matters anymore..." And it wasn't a lie. When had things like that become only secondary to the more looming issues in pursuing a relationship?

A long pause. "...Is it because of Yanase, then?"

And it should have been embarrassing that Hatori of all people had to point it out. Chiaki hadn't even really _considered_ that all of the reasons he felt so annoyed and angry and Hatori for judging his actions this whole time was because he was, dammit, _defending_ Yuu. It wasn't Yuu's fault he was braver (or perhaps drunker) and had opened himself up to Chiaki—it wasn't even something to be faulted _period_. But... "Maybe..."

He could hear the frown in Hatori's voice without even having to make eye contact. "You're not even in a relationship with him; you're only trying to figure out your feelings—isn't that what you said?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"But you would still feel wrong kissing someone else behind his back." Another not-question that forced Chiaki to still consider a response. An observation...or a suggestion? Whatever the intent, it still made Chiaki think, made him realize that...yes. Yes he would feel wrong. Yuu had been honest and frank about his insecurities earlier, and Chiaki would feel like the lowest form of life on earth if he'd given the guy any base to found those insecurities on.

"...Do you love him?"

Chiaki froze, heart stopped in his chest, and he swallowed after a moment to wet his dry throat. He had to respond, _had to_ respond. This wasn't Yuu—but this was someone who just as much deserved to hear Chiaki's true thoughts on the matter at hand. "...No. I don't think so, not yet. But—" He lifted his head and locked eyes with Hatori, hoping he didn't look as utterly unconfident as he felt. "...I think I could."

He took a deep breath and continued when Hatori didn't have any smart response to the confession. "...I'm sorry. For being stupid and oblivious and blind and not noticing when people care for me in... _that_ way." He shook his head. "I just let down my guard around the both of you, that’s the kind of person I am. So—I know it’s probably been tough being by me all these years—"

"It hasn't."

Hatori's response seemed to come from nowhere. "...Eh?"

His face was...disappointed. Or, resigned, rather, with a sad smile to it. "I never once thought of it as a burden. Just so you know. It's not something to apologize for—it just...happened this way."

Chiaki groped for a response, eventually blurting out the only thing that came to mind: "...You're not going to stop being my editor, are you?"

Hatori reached for his knife again, and Chiaki politely ignored the fact that his fingers were still trembling a bit. "I don't hate any other editors enough to pawn your lazy ass off on them."

Despite the obvious swipe at his reliability, Chiaki relaxed a hair; if Hatori was griping at him again, perhaps it meant there was something left to salvage. He groaned, to release the tension. " _Geez_ , maybe _I_ should be the one shopping around for a better editor then."

Hatori just smiled and shook his head, attacking an onion now with vigor. "So."

Chiaki reached for his discarded sketchbook. "Hm?"

"Have you had sex yet?"

* * *

"Nothing happened." Chiaki's voice was low and hissed, to keep the girls inside the studio from overhearing them; he supposed he could have dragged Yuu into the copy room again, but in all honesty he really didn't think this could wait, and while the hallway was far from the most private venue, it would have to do.

Yuu looked decidedly uncomfortable. "I—Chiaki..." He scratched at the back of his neck and looked away from Chiaki's probing, honest gaze. "I...didn't assume anything _would_. You don't have to convince me. I feel like an ass for...you know, spilling about Hatori yesterday." His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Really, it was just desperation and I don't even really know _why_ I felt like I needed to—"

Chiaki rolled his eyes, bit back an exasperated sigh, and leaned forward before his conscience could get the better of him, brushing a kiss across Yuu's cheek and slipping back just as quickly, flushing. "Just—be nicer to Tori, okay?"

It was time to get back to work on the things that mattered.


	12. Chapter 12

"Yanase-san~" Kurihara's merry voice sang out from across the studio, and she put on her nicest smile, leaning onto his desk and trying to affect a casual atmosphere, at once relaxed and wary. "You're not…busy again on Tuesday, right?"

"Hm?" Yuu avoided making eye contact; that was the best way to deal with women like Kurihara-san. Best not to let on that he was even remotely interested in whatever she was here to ask.

"Tuesday. You know, the day after Monday? Right before Wednesday? Two days after Sun—"

"Yeah yeah, okay. Tuesday. What about it?"

"Well we've got another group date planned…" Yuu jerked his gaze from the background he'd been working on for the past half hour to give her a sharp look, as if daring her to continue. "Don't you give me that look: you _owe_ me!"

"I had a legitimate excuse last time."

"So—the excuse you're going to give this time is _illegitimate_?" Yuu frowned and learned back in his chair, arms crossed, and she gave a pout. "Come _on_ , you never come out with the other assistants, not even when we offer to buy you a round."

The door opened behind them, and Chiaki trailed in with a conbini pasta lunch in his hands, steam rising from its short stint in the microwave down the hall. Two of the other assistants were right behind him, chattering amicably. "…I'm really sorry, but…"

"But…?"

"I'm—indisposed."

"What?"

"Off the market."

" _What_?!" Kurihara-san's voice grew shrill, drawing the immediate attention of the other assistants who crowded nearer. "So—you mean you've got…?"

"Someone."

"You've _actually_ got a girlfriend? Yanase Yuu?" Yuu shrugged, neither confirming nor denying. He could hardly blab about whatever he and Chiaki had at the moment, especially not to a known gossip like Kurihara-san, but maybe this was for the better. It would certainly save him trouble in the future—even if things never worked out with Chiaki, a sad but unfortunately likely fact. "You've never once mentioned her!"

"I'm supposed to tell my co-workers everything?"

Kurihara-san turned on Chiaki now. "Sensei—is he _serious_?!"

Chiaki flinched, going a little green in the face, and Yuu allowed a soft snicker. "Wh—why are you asking _me_?!"

"Because…you're Yanase-san's childhood friend, right? Wouldn't you know if he were seeing someone?"

"Ah, I…guess…"

"So…?"

"Leave Chiaki alone," Yuu chided, tugging on her shirt to draw her attention back and spare Chiaki the rigors of an interrogation. "So you see why I can't take you up on your lovely offer, yeah?"

"Hmm…I suppose," she allowed evenly, and the other assistants drifted back to their stations to quickly finish lunch in their short break period. "But now you know you have to tell us about her."

"I do, do I?"

"It's a rule."

"There's a rule book?"

"Of course there's a rule book. So—what's she like?"

"That's kind of a broad question, don't you think?"

"Big boobs?"

Realizing he wasn't going to get any work done until she finished shaking him down for details, Yuu set aside his drafting pencil and leaned over to relax with his chin in one hand, keeping Chiaki in his field of vision because this was going to be _good_. "Nope. Almost like a man, really; I don't mind so much though."

She raised a brow, dubious. "Uh huh. What about her face? Nice face?"

"I guess so—I like it."

"You're giving pretty half-assed answers."

"Should I sketch a portrait instead?"

"Petite and curvy?"

"Skinny and pointy. All elbows, really." She grimaced, and Yuu rolled his eyes, mildly annoyed. "I'm the one dating them! Who're you to judge?"

She raised her hands and backed off. "Right right, whatever. Even though there are way hotter girls at our group date…"

"Then you shouldn't have any problem finding a guy who'd like to go, right?" She stuck her tongue out, and he snorted, snatching his pencil back up and cocking his head to the side to evaluate Chiaki's reaction.

The guy was scribbling away furiously, his cheeks red and a flustered frown on his lips. Yuu couldn't help the fond smile that worked its way across his face; there had been nothing implicative in his words, and he hadn't even remotely suggested that he was dating a guy, let alone Chiaki—yet he still got worked up like this.

"It's cause _I_ know," Chiaki grumbled his explanation later after the other assistants had taken their leave, packing up for the evening. "I can't help it; it just _happens_. I get all nervous and—my hands start sweating—"

Yuu snapped a wrist out and took Chiaki's hands in his own, spreading the palms wide. "It's true…" he marveled, humoring him until Chiaki snatched his hands back with a frown. "And I don't have any problem with it…but you do seem uncomfortable."

"Well you didn't have to tell everyone we were _dating_."

"But I didn't tell anyone that!" Yuu protested. Nevermind that to call what they were doing _dating_ was a stretch. Chiaki could be so touchy when it came to other people's opinions of him, even when there was no reason any of them should get the wrong idea—or the _right_ idea. "And it was more for my own good, really; I don't want Kurihara-san hanging on me all the time trying to drag me out for a hook-up."

Chiaki didn't say anything, just adjusted his bag on his shoulder and kept his gaze averted. "I know… I just—feel weird today."

Yuu _hmmed_ knowingly. "Yeah, I know the feeling; I feel sick after I eat too much of Hatori's food, too."

" _Yuu_."

"Hey—you never said I had to be nice to him while he wasn't here!" Chiaki rolled his eyes and started for the door. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"Let's go out to dinner."

Chiaki yanked on the door handle, stepping out into the dark hallway lit by only a few security lights. "What, like McDonalds?"

"…Oh you man about town, you."

* * *

In hindsight, perhaps Chiaki shouldn't have indulged in his curiosity on an already tipsy mind, listening to Yuu's warnings instead of grumbling under his breath about Tori and Yuu always treating him like a child and he could damn well get smashed if he wanted to. But he was feeling antsy tonight already, and rather than listening to his better angels, he let his demons shout them down as he knocked back his drinks.

"Just don't start stripping and dancing on the bar…" Yuu had cautioned with a smile, waving down the bartender and adding under his breath, "Save that for when we get home." It was a testament to how far Chiaki was already gone that he just _laughed_ at the insinuation.

But there was certainly no laughing now. Only fatigue and an oncoming headache and a mixture of alcohol, steak, and a leafy salad sloshing around in his stomach and threatening to come up at any moment. "We should've gone to McDonalds…"

Yuu's laughter was low and rough by his ear as he helped Chiaki scale the steps to his apartment. "We can go there next time, promise."

"You just wanted to show off."

"I haven't gotten to see you outside of work all week; Hatori's been spiriting you away and making you be the poison tester for his horribly spicy food. I _saved_ you. Show a bit more appreciation."

"…I'm sorry," Chiaki apologized, voice a bit choked with emotion. "You're right. I should be more grateful—thank you, thank you, thank you." He ducked his head and pressed it into the crook of Yuu's neck, letting his jaw drop open just enough to dart a tongue out and lave it along a short strip of exposed skin.

"Ah—ah ah ah, okay, that's enough of that. Where's your key, we're at your apartment."

Chiaki groaned in annoyance. "In my bag."

"Can you get it out?"

"You get it." Yuu sighed and pushed Chiaki away—being sure to keep him standing straight and not in danger of tipping over—just enough to maneuver his bag between them, digging inside around the sketchbooks and pencil cases for the keyring Chiaki stuffed in it every morning. "Your hair smells good." His voice was slightly muffled where he buried his face in Yuu's auburn hair.

"Lush has good products."

"You smell like the beach. We should go to the beach."

Yuu snorted, fingers finally falling across the keys, and he pulled them out. "Yeah? On what vacation?" He pressed the key into the lock, listened for the bolt to dislodge, and yanked the door open, guiding Chiaki inside ahead of him. "Mind your shoes."

"Yuu…"

"Hm?" He squatted down to unlace his shoes, leaving one hand free to unlace Chiaki's as well, since he seemed disinclined to do so.

"You love me, yeah?"

Yuu coughed softly, dislodging the lump in his throat. "You're asking that now of all times?"

"It's just a question."

"Take your shoes off; I've unlaced them for you." Chiaki complied this time, and Yuu sighed, turning Chiaki around to face forward by the shoulders and guiding him through the dark living room towards his bedroom. "And of course I love you. I thought we'd established that."

"But you never do anything…"

"Eh?"

Chiaki stopped cold in his tracks at the doorway to his bedroom, frowning. "You never do anything with me."

Yuu rolled his eyes and applied enough pressure to push Chiaki across the threshold, headed for the bed. "I do plenty with you. We just went out to eat, didn't we?"

Chiaki stopped again, and Yuu worried he was going to have to carry the guy over to the bed if he didn't stop this stalling, but Chiaki quickly turned on his heel with more finesse than a man as drunk as he was should've possessed and grabbed Yuu's shirtfront in both hands before toppling backwards onto the edge of the bed, pulling Yuu with him into a messy heap. "You never do this with me."

" _Chiaki_ —"

But Chiaki's lips were already on his, and his tongue was swiping along the seam between them, pressing inside his mouth and stroking meaningfully. He took great gasps of breath between kisses, letting his hands scrabble frantically against Yuu's back as he tried to pull them closer, complaining breathily about wanting more, more warmth, more touching, more—

"Ch—Chiaki, _stop_ ," Yuu warned, disappointment in the whole situation tinging his voice when he finally managed to work a hand between them to provide enough leverage to separate them. " _Chiaki_ , you don't know what you're doing."

"Know damn well," Chiaki grunted, irritation evident, and he flopped back against the bed, flushed and fatigued. "You did it to me before—do it again. Do— _fuck_ , I don't care, do _something_."

Yuu pulled back, frowning. "You're drunk, Chiaki."

"And _horny_ —what's your point?"

Yuu shook his head, sighing, and shared a long staring match with Chiaki—but whatever had taken hold of Chiaki quickly passed, and the flush to his cheeks faded more into a gentle burn reflecting the alcohol in his blood, and he groaned angrily and shoved Yuu away, batting away the hand that had tried to press a few strands of hair behind his ear. "Get off me."

Yuu raised a brow but brushed it off as the liquor talking. "You should get some rest."

"I'll sleep when I'm tired," he returned shortly, rolling over still fully dressed and pulling the comforter up over his shoulder, back facing Yuu in silent order for him to leave.

Yuu regarded him silently for a moment, then pushed back off the bed and brushed himself off, smoothing out his clothes and hair where Chiaki had ruffled them. "Good night, Chiaki."

"I don't love you."

The words were strong and rang loud and true in the darkness, wrapping around Yuu's heart with a cold fist that chilled his blood. _The alcohol, it's the alcohol._

"I don't love you," he repeated, as if perhaps Yuu might not have heard him the first time, and his voice was startlingly strong and even for a man two steps from passing out.

Yuu swallowed, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "You're drunk." It was more for himself than for Chiaki's sake.

"Don't have to be sober to know I don't love you," he returned shortly, voice somewhat muffled when he pressed his face into the pillow. "I don't _love you_ , dammit. Not that way!"

Yuu let the words, cold and unthinking, roll off his back, shaking his head. "I'm leaving, Chiaki—I'll see you in the—"

"I don't love you," he repeated, and now the words were starting to not even sound like real words, just a string of unintelligible babble that somehow still hurt and made Yuu's chest seize up in shock. Chiaki shuffled over onto his other side, glaring up at Yuu in the dim light. "I don't—so _why_ do I have to feel like this? It's _annoying_."

Yuu just stared back, unmoving, and Chiaki continued, sounding like a petulant child instead of the nearly 30 years he almost was. "I don't even love you but I'm still stuck feeling all this stupid crap for you. Like—like, I want to kiss you and spend time with you—or I get annoyed when you're friendly with other people even though—I know that's just Yuu being Yuu." He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning. "How is that even fair?"

Yuu narrowed his gaze, keeping his voice low and controlled. "It's your own fault if you can't stop thinking about those kinds of things even though you don't want to."

"No no no—it's _your_ fault. Your fault for—for being in love with me first, and then I couldn't stop thinking about it. And now I'm like this—and I hate it. I _hate_ it." His voice had an edge of emotion to it, thick with frustration and powerlessness, and he punched the mattress beneath him. "Being in love fucking sucks. I don't know why anyone would ever do it voluntarily."

Yuu clenched a fist, frown deepening. "…I don't think anyone ever _does_ …" And then turned on his heel to leave Chiaki to his own devices.

* * *

When Chiaki awoke the next morning, it was not to the soft chirping of birds outside his window or the low, melodic call of a wandering sweet potato salesman, but to the sudden urge to vomit up the contents of his stomach—which he summarily did, into his toilet. After being reduced to little more than dry heaves and feeling all the worse because now he had nothing in his stomach, Chiaki slumped against the bathroom wall in a pile of boneless limbs and tried to remember what day it was.

Fuck, he had work. Didn't he?

He remained crumpled into a little heap in his bathroom, head resting against the side of his tub, and he waited for his breathing to slow, trying to organize his thoughts in his head.

Drinking…he'd gone drinking with Yuu the night before, right? Wait—no, not drinking. Just out to dinner—but he'd still gotten drunk. Worse than he had in a while. He grimaced at the memory of ordering more alcohol in one sitting than he had in the past six months put together. Why hadn't Yuu _stopped_ him? Or maybe he'd tried; Chiaki knew he wasn't the best drunk ever.

He closed his eyes, feeling his heart rate slow to a comfortable steady crawl, and let images and sensations from the night before fill his mind's eye—Yuu standing under the yellow light over his front door trying to dig out Chiaki's keys, the scent of tropical-scented shampoo in his hair, a warm steady hand at the small of Chiaki's back helping him into bed…

…That had been it, right? They hadn't…done anything, right? Chiaki's eyes snapped open, and he tested his body for any lingering stiffness or pain that might indicate he'd more than let the alcohol go to his head the night before, but surely he wouldn't have let himself go _that_ far, right? And Yuu wouldn't have taken advantage of Chiaki's uninhibited state, right? He was the one always going on about how he didn't want Chiaki to hate him (which was pretty well impossible the way things were going) and didn't want to do _those things_ unless Chiaki wanted them as well (which was…well, not impossible, but still a bit daunting).

He squinted his eyes shut and rubbed at his temples. No, no there definitely hadn't been anything of that nature last night, if his own body and Yuu were to be trusted. And they were, he reminded himself.

But regardless, he definitely remembered being…a difficult drunk. He got mouthy when he drank too much hard liquor, slipping from the fun tipsy state he adopted after a few beers to relax in the evening and landing squarely on his ass in _annoying as hell_. His neediness ratcheted up to 10, and his whininess became nigh unbearable, if reports were to be believed.

He heaved himself up onto unsteady legs and hobbled back into his bedroom, falling across his bed and finding his cellphone neatly placed on his bedside table, charging—Yuu's handiwork. He flipped it open and scrolled through his contacts list, considering sending a text before frowning and punching the _call_ button. There was the distinct purring sound of the line attempting to connect before a melodic female voice apologized that the number he had dialed was unavailable at the moment. It figured.

He tried two more times to no avail before snapping the device shut and tossing it to the other side of the bed, sighing as he stared up at the ceiling. He could just text Yuu, but…something tugged at him, reminding him he'd probably said something stupid last night or at the very least inconvenienced Yuu. There was only so far liking someone got you before taking care of them became a hassle and totally not worth it. He could almost understand Tori's frustration with him after all this time.

He rolled upright again and grabbed his shirt at the hem, pulling it up and over his head in one smooth motion before toddling back towards the bathroom. He needed a shower first—wait, no, he needed painkillers first. _Then_ a shower. And then…he needed to track down Yuu and apologize—because a sicking roil in his stomach that had nothing to do with a hangover was nagging at him, telling him he'd done something _very_ stupid the night before.

* * *

Chiaki was saved the awkward scene of going into the studio only to haul Yuu out to talk and not to actually go in to work—by Yuu not even being at the studio. When he'd called in to tell let the other assistants know they should work on the panels they'd been assigned the day before and to contact Chiaki if they needed any further direction, Inoue-san—who'd answered the phone—asked if they should pick up Yanase-san's slack as well, since he wasn't in and hadn't given notice, altogether quite unlike him.

Chiaki had frowned into the receiver, the foreboding within him growing, and he apologized again and told them to leave Yuu's pieces to Yuu, that he'd surely get them done in time and not to worry. He hoped he hadn't just screwed over the whole project with misplaced trust.

With Yuu not at the studio and not answering his phone, Chiaki was left with little choice other than to head directly to Yuu's apartment himself. It was a bit out of the way, and there was a nip in the air that left Chiaki wishing he'd at least donned a light jacket before heading out—but he simply picked up the pace in his walking and double-timed it until he found himself dawdling in front of Yuu's door, leaning on the buzzer and trying to peer inside through the peephole with little success. Pressing an ear to the door, he heard nothing—no shuffling, no snoring, no sound of running water or a laundry machine. Yuu was either being very careful to ignore Chiaki and escape detection...or he was simply not home.

And now Chiaki was genuinely starting to get worried—skipping work without notice, not home, not answering his phone, even the text messages Chiaki had sent in a fit had gone unanswered. With a sigh, he braced his back against the door and slid down to the ground, shivering at the cold metal landing beneath him. And then he waited.

Nearly three hours later, a shadow passed over Chiaki's face where he was lightly dozing, warmed by the sun shining overhead and clearing away the hazy clouds of that morning. He blinked a few times rapidly to adjust his sight, and Yuu's face quickly blurred into focus. "...What the hell are you doing out here?"

Chiaki scrambled to his feet, apologizing as he went and brushing himself off. "Ah—sorry, I needed to see you, and I tried calling you, but..." He trailed off, watching as Yuu's face visibly fell; he didn't look angry, he didn't look annoyed. He looked...surprised. And a bit guilty, too. Chiaki's brows furrowed, and for the first time he took in Yuu in full...

And realized he was still wearing the same clothes as last night.

Yuu hadn't been home yet. He wasn't coming back from a conbini run or from a quick trip to the post office or some other errand that somehow superseded his _job_...he was coming back from a night spent out. A night spent not in his apartment, and not in Chiaki's.

Yuu seemed to twig to where Chiaki's gaze was falling, and he grabbed at his clothes, words coming quickly, "Ah—no, I was... Sorry—I was out late last night. I got an invitation to go drinking with a friend after I saw you off, and since I had time and was free..."

Chiaki blinked slowly, brows coming together as the pieces fell into perfect place. "...Even though you had to be in the studio today? Even though the manuscript is due tomorrow...? You had time to..." He swallowed thickly, finding his breath coming more quickly than was entirely comfortable.

"I didn't...I didn't mean to stay out late. We just got to talking, and I wound up missing the last train, so—I stayed over at their place. That's...all, really." Chiaki wasn't sure how to feel about how earnestly Yuu was trying to reassure him that this was Not a Big Deal. Did he seem like he was hurt, or jealous? Was that even his place? What the hell had he done last night that sent Yuu out drinking with some nameless, faceless 'friend' that Chiaki obviously had never heard of and hoped to never have to? He felt like he wanted to be sick again for a million different reasons now—what did 'stay over' mean? Why was he having the hardest time taking Yuu at his word, when the guy had never lied to his face before? Why did it _even matter_ what Yuu had done, if anything? What right did he have to feel threatened, when he could barely initiate a kiss on his own let alone let Yuu 'stay over'? Jealousy was never a good color on anyone—especially when you had no right or reason _to_ be jealous.

"...Come inside?" Chiaki flinched at the words, the smooth, favor-seeking sweetness almost tangible, and he glanced up to find Yuu's cheeks flushed with the chill and maybe something else. "I'll put on some tea."

They piled into the apartment in silence, and Chiaki shivered when he found that it was somehow colder _inside_ the apartment than outside—likely a product of no one having stayed there the night before. On the coffee table in the living room were spread out half-finished manga panels. He recognized a scene from near the end of the current arc and brushed away an eraser shaving, tracing the arch of a building with his finger. Yuu was skilled; really skilled. He didn't need to be working as Chiaki's assistant; he needed to be making his _own_ manga—or partnering with a writer if he couldn't come up with storylines on his own. He was being wasted in Yoshikawa Chiharu's studio. Chiaki, it seemed, could never give Yuu what he wanted in any respect.

"I'll have the panels finished by tomorrow; don't worry." Chiaki jumped in his skin, pulling back when Yuu set a steaming cup of tea before him and moved to clear away the panels to keep them from being dirtied before settling down on the couch next to Chiaki. "I honestly didn't mean to not call in at least; I just...lost myself this morning, I guess." Chiaki nodded mutely, blowing softly across the surface and sending tendrils of steam scattering. "...Were you waiting long?"

"Three hours."

" _Thr_ —" Yuu started, nearly spilling his tea across the floor, but he caught himself and wisely set the cup and saucer on the table.

"I tried calling. A few times."

Yuu scratched at the back of his neck nervously. "I...yeah, sorry. My battery was low..." And maybe it was. Maybe Yuu had only noticed the dim flashing just as he was on his way home. Maybe it had died before he'd gotten a chance to even think about popping into a convenience store and buying a substitute battery because _dammit_ Chiaki had actually been a little worried and he was _still_ a little worried sitting here in this tense atmosphere wanting to know why Yuu was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday and why he looked guilty and who his friend was and what _staying over_ meant.

"Na, Chiaki."

This feeling, this unbalanced, sickening sensation—he hated it. It was the worst feeling in the world, not because it _hurt_ , but because it _didn't go away_. Yuu made it worse whether he meant to or not, leaving Chiaki feeling even more confused when Yuu came and went, in and out of his life like a flickering candle. He just wanted to curl up and have it _stop_.

"...Let's stop this."

 _If only_. "Eh?"

Yuu took the cup from his hands and set it down on the table, drawing Chiaki's attention. "...We should stop dating, I think."

Chiaki's heart froze in his chest, such that he found it hard to breath, fingers twitching where he gripped the material of his pants leg.

Yuu continued, staring down at the tea as if he couldn't get the words out any other way. "Just...it's not really...working out, I think. It's not doing any good. We agreed to do this for certain reasons, and...now I don't think those reasons are all that valid anymore. So it might be for the best if we just—"

" _Why_?" Chiaki couldn't stop the word falling from his lips, and he cringed inside at the tone he took on, confused and petulant and _whining_ , like a child just denied a fun outing. Yuu actually glanced over, eyes wide and jaw hanging open just slightly. It was apparent he hadn't actually expected Chiaki to object. "I...I don't..." He shook his head, covering his mouth. "Why would we..."

"...Do you not remember... _anything_ about last night? About what you said?" Chiaki felt shame sting just behind his eyes as he shook his head, but Yuu didn't sigh or roll his eyes or do anything that might be remotely construed to be a reprimand, just leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and stirred his tea with a small spoon. "You were really drunk, I think..." He wasn't sure if Yuu was trying to comfort him, letting him know there were _reasons_ for what he was about to say, or just reminding him of the circumstances. "You said—that...you weren't in love with me. And—" Chiaki swallowed and closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the next words. "...That you never wanted to be."

Oh _fuck_ , what had that been about? What the _hell_ had that been about?

"You said, pretty clearly—several times over in fact, that you didn't want to fall in love with me. And—" He glanced over at Chiaki, raising his brows. "—I'm not saying that—that you need to be, you know? It's just...I mean, isn't that the point of this?" He shrugged, and then slumped back against the couch. "Isn't that...why we're doing this in the first place? You told me you wanted to try...and now you tell me you don't." He rubbed his face, suddenly looking far more tired than Chiaki had thought at first. "I just don't see the point then..."

Chiaki's mouth was dry—he couldn't swallow the lump in his throat even if he wanted to. He twisted in place to try and face Yuu more head-on, no more side-long glances out of the corner of his eye or averting a gaze because it was too bright to stare. He needed to look Yuu straight on and hear this. "You don't—see the _point_?"

Yuu leaned forward again, placing their faces in close proximity and making it difficult for Chiaki to glance away even if he wanted to. "No, I don't. I don't see the point of—of being near you and touching you and falling even _more_ in love with you when it's never going to go anywhere beyond that." He waved off Chiaki's blush at what he took to be an implication, scoffing in frustration. "Don't—give me that. You know damn well what I mean. I can't do it, Chiaki."

"Can't..."

"I can't _do it_. I can't do _this_ and then go back to nothing. I _love you_ , as much as you _don't_ love me. And I can't let myself sit here and get comfortable with you like this when it's never going to end the way I want it. I told you—I don't want you to force yourself, and I don't want to do anything with you— _anything_ —unless you want it, too. And that means working towards something that is never going to happen because _you don't want it to_." He fell silent, breathing hard, and wiped his mouth with the back of one hand, swallowing. "...So just...we should stop this."

A span of silence stretched between them, so deep that Chiaki swore he could hear his own blood pumping furiously in his veins, keeping his emotions hot and high and tempting him to say stupid things. "...No." Like that.

Yuu's gaze narrowed. "...What?"

"I...said _no_." He fisted his hands in his pants, gripping tighter as if to ground himself for the coming argument. "No. I don't want to stop."

" _Chiaki_ —"

"I said _no_! Just—I can't _help it_ , dammit!" He could feel his throat tightening with another lump and cursed his emotions for always running high. for better or worse. "I don't remember..." He shook his head. "I don't remember saying that to you. So if I did, I apologize." He knew he sounded flippant, but it was no less true; only he didn't really have the energy to expend prostrating himself asking for forgiveness. That could come later. "Just—I don't know, is all. What love is. And that's frustrating and it scares the crap out of me. Hell no, I don't want to fall in love!" He snapped the assertion, and suddenly the words felt eerily familiar on his lips. _God_ he was an asshole. He had to fix this. "I don't even know _how_ to. How are you supposed to just have...one person be your everything? How is anyone supposed to handle not being able to think or speak or _feel_ without it being about that one person? I mean—" He waved a hand in Yuu's direction. "Look at what it's done to you! You can't tell me you actually _like_ this!"

Before he realized it, his voice had risen into a frantic pitch, and his face felt hot, a patch of sweat growing from the nape of his neck down his back. The chill from before was completely gone. "But...but some part of me doesn't want to give it up. Not because I don't want to lose you as a friend—because I do trust you, that you wouldn't leave me, that you'd be able to step away from this and start over. But...because maybe I'm starting to get used to it too." He let his lids droop, squinting. "Not just used to it...but wanting it some, too. Being close with someone, the—affection and all. Having someone care about me, and _knowing_ that, being able to appreciate it and feel its effects in what they do for me..." He swallowed. "I...like it, I think. And I hate _that_. Because it's not that simple: It's this in-between state that's getting to be _unbearable_." He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, massaging one temple. "I can't treat you like a friend like before...but I'm not completely comfortable treating you like anything much more yet either. You're just...Yuu. You're something indefinable."

He snapped both hands forward and grabbed Yuu by the wrists, pulling a strangled little grunt from him in surprise. "It grates. It's annoying. I want to just—get it over with. Pull it off like a bandaid or something. It's not _enough_." He heard Yuu suck in a breath, and he licked his lips, feeling the adrenaline start pumping. "It's not far enough fast enough, Yuu." He shifted onto his knees on the couch and braced his arms on either side of Yuu, locking him in and filling his vision. "Make me fall. Make me glad for it—even if I didn't want it."

Yuu swallowed audibly, and there was a long, silent pause after Chiaki delivered his ultimatum. "Ch—Chiaki..."

"...What?"

He swallowed again, breath short and coming in fast pants. "...You're really hot right now, just so you know."

Chiaki immediately pulled back, flushing more from annoyance at the mood being broken than in response to the compliment. "You—people are trying to have a _serious_ conversation and—"

Yuu bucked forward and knocked Chiaki soundly flat on his back on the couch, supporting himself straddling the cushions and staring down, expression torn and confused and plaintive all at once. It was an unreadable mess, and Chiaki held his breath. "How'm I supposed to react when the guy I like pushes me down and tells me those kinds of things?" Chiaki looked a little green in the face, clashing with his red blush. "...You don't have to love me. I just don't want you to hate me."

Chiaki shifted his gaze off to the side so that he didn't have to face Yuu's searching expression. "You need to finish what you started is all. It's your fault I'm like this in the first place."

Yuu snorted, the first genuine sign of amusement since Chiaki could remember. "...You told me that last night, too." Chiaki frowned, not liking being reminded of words he supposedly said that he couldn't call from memory. "I want to, Chiaki. Don't doubt my resolve for a minute." Chiaki swallowed nervously, nodding meekly. "But don't think it's not just as scary for me either."

Chiaki's fingers twitched with a sudden unfounded desire to reach up and touch Yuu's cheek, but he kept it in check. "Aren't you supposed to face your fears?"

"That goes both ways." Chiaki grimaced, more for show, and it drew the desired small smile from Yuu. "...What are you doing next weekend?"

"Next weekend? I don't..." He let his mind float to view his schedule in his mind—there were meetings scattered throughout the week, but Tori did his level best to keep Chiaki's weekends relatively light. "I guess...nothing special? Assuming we get the manuscript sent off by Friday, at least." 

Yuu gave a short nod. "Good."

"...Good?"

Another nod, and Yuu's smile started curling at the corners of his lips. "We're going on a trip."


	13. Chapter 13

Chiaki's dubious frown, which hadn't been much moved from his face ever since stepping off the train an hour earlier, was now firmly planted in place as he stepped down off the bus, rolling his suitcase behind him with some substantial effort on the gravel path leading up to the ryokan's lobby. "This is...going on a trip?"

Yuu's brows furrowed at the lack of the expected excitement in Chiaki's voice. "You were expecting maybe Fujikyuu Highland?"

Chiaki threw a glance over his shoulder. "Not expecting—but maybe _hoping_?"

Yuu rolled his eyes and heaved his own suitcase up by the handle, breezing past Chiaki as he marched up the steep pathway. "Don't whine; you'll start the weekend off on a sour note!"

"I'm not _whining_ ," Chiaki maintained, but well, okay, maybe he was whining a _little_. But when Yuu had suggested they 'get away', he'd kind of hoped...there would be a _vacation_ implied. A mini-vacation, sure, but a _fun_ vacation. And onsens? Onsens were nice and all—for when you wanted to relax. And Chiaki had been on edge for weeks now and just wanted a place to scream and get excited and let loose and _forget_ everything.

Except the point of taking this trip had been to _not_ forget, but to confront and accept and settle things, right? He sighed to himself and hitched the strap to his bag up higher on his shoulder, yanking his case forward to follow Yuu.

Check-in was completed quickly and without incident, and the manager—an older woman, hunched with age, scurrying around in a tight kimono faded and frayed over time—showed them to the staircase leading to the landing of the second story, instructing them where to find their room.

They were nearly knocked down the stairs by a pair of small children tumbling down, headed giggling towards the baths, and Chiaki smiled despite himself. It was barely fall, and an onsen trip was a bit out of season, but they were a great excuse to pull away from the hustle and bustle of Tokyo life and settle down a bit, fellowship with friends—and more-than-friends—and get back to nature a bit even.

Yuu whistled for his attention after a moment, and Chiaki scrambled up the stairs after him. "...It's bigger than I expected," Chiaki offered, glancing around the room when he followed Yuu inside after they reached their door.

"How big were you expecting?"

Chiaki shrugged. "Is that our own pool out on the landing?" He dropped his bag and suitcase and trotted over to the sliding door leading to the terrace outside, gently prising it open and stepping out to inspect it. "...Are we supposed to use this?"

"I guess if we want." Yuu stood up straight from where he'd been unpacking and wandered over to where Chiaki was perusing their pool. "There's the open-air baths downstairs, too, but I suppose this is for those who want—uh, a bit more _privacy_."

Chiaki whirled around, a blush playing across his cheeks, and his skin tone went a little green overall. "Ah—this is...?"

Yuu rolled his eyes and went back to unpacking. "For people who don't want to sit in a tub with a bunch of strangers, obviously. Honestly, where's your mind at today, Chiaki?"

Chiaki coughed and followed him back inside. "I didn't mean... Anyways, do we really need a room this big? You told me to leave the reservations to you, but this is way bigger than we need, and it's probably expensive too..."

Yuu zipped his bag shut and wandered over to inspect the closet for fresh yukata. "Stop worrying about stuff like that—it's supposed to be a relaxing weekend for us to spend together without worrying about _anything_ else. Not work, not Hatori, not Kurihara-san, not how much the room costs." He pulled out one of the yukata and tossed it behind him, shoulders hunching in amusement when he was met with Chiaki's muffled grunt as it hit him in the face, and tugged at the hem of his own shirt to pull it over his head. "Just enjoy the weekend."

Doing such a thing was easier said than done, in general, especially when your mind was as mixed up as Chiaki's was, but he somehow managed to do as Yuu suggested and stopped dwelling on the fact that he was out in the middle of practically nowhere ("...Hakone is _not_ 'the middle of nowhere', Chiaki. Now get dressed, I want to get to the baths before dinner."), alone with Yuu with his entreaty to _make me fall, harder and faster_ hanging over their heads. He was supposed to be finding himself—the problem was, he didn't even _know_ what he was looking for.

"At least the kids are gone."

Chiaki blinked slowly, staring up at the ceiling from where he lay half floating on his back in the water. The thick, humid steam filled his lungs and sinuses, almost oppressive and yet somehow strangely relaxing at the same time. "...Huh?"

"The kids." He felt the water ripple around him as Yuu crept closer. "The ones that nearly barreled us over on the stairwell earlier? I know onsens are popular with families and all, but I'd hoped this one was far enough out of the way we wouldn't get more than a few old geezers bothering us."

Chiaki shrugged. "It's not so bad I guess. Makes things interesting."

Yuu snorted beside him and shook his head. "You're surprisingly easygoing this evening..."

Chiaki closed his eyes and felt the water ripple again, the soft slap of liquid against the side of the pool the only sound echoing in the empty hall. Something brushed against his lips, warm and soft and dry but gone in an instant, and he frowned. "...What was that for?"

"Just 'cause." He could hear the satisfied smirk in Yuu's voice, proud to have caught Chiaki lazy and too drained from their travels now that he was cocooned in warmth to protest the display of affection. "You don't mind?"

Chiaki pursed his lips. "Just don't let anyone see..." Yuu's amused chuckle was loud for their surroundings, and Chiaki let his eyes crack open, brows furrowed. "Wh-what?"

Yuu waved him off, chuckles dying away. "Just—the thought that there'd ever come a day where I could kiss you and you'd just tell me to make sure no one saw me do it..." He leaned against the wall, tilting his head to regard Chiaki. "Are you _falling_ for me?" he teased.

Now it was Chiaki's turn to snort, and he joined Yuu on the bench against the wall, shivering with the bits of skin exposed to the relatively chilly air outside of the bathwater. "You're gonna have to try harder than sneaking a kiss in an onsen."

"You really _want_ me to try harder?"

The accusation echoed in the bath chamber, and Chiaki suddenly grew unaware of the warmth of the water, instead feeling enveloped by a cold chill. Yuu's tone wasn't accusing or petulant in the least—and yet it still sounded...reproachful. Like he was testing Chiaki, to see how good a lie he could spin in his response.

Chiaki blinked a few times, wiping at his eyes to clear away the sweat and water dripping down, and his mouth opened and closed several times before he actually worked up something to say. "What...why would you say something like that?"

Yuu sighed softly and shook his head, drawing figures in the surface of the pool. "I was just thinking...how they say _in vino veritas_." Chiaki cocked his head, confusion evident on his face. "You were drunk...when you said those things to me. How you didn't want to fall in love, how you hated the idea." Chiaki shrank in on himself at the reminder, averting his gaze in shame. "And—I know you didn't mean to say them like that, so harshly but...sometimes people say things when they're drunk that they only wouldn't say sober because of social etiquette and things like that. It just made me wonder how much of that was you not being sure...and how much of it was you being more sure than you want to admit about how you feel about me."

Chiaki sank further into the water, all but dunking his head in, and closed his eyes for a moment to let himself calm down behind the darkness of his eyelids. "I told you...I don't really remember what I said."

"...Yeah, I know." A pause. "Forget I said anything—it's just my own insecurity—"

"I'm— _scared_ is all," Chiaki confessed abruptly, eyes squeezed shut, as if waiting for a blow to fall. "Or more like—worried. Confused." He relaxed a hair when Yuu didn't respond, tension easing from his shoulders and eyes opening a crack to stare blankly ahead. "I've...never been in love before. How'm I supposed to recognize it? What if..." He shrugged ambivalently. "What if I'm not cut out for being in love with anyone? I mean—" He chanced a glance at Yuu, running his gaze over the bits of his friend that were visible. "You're a pretty nice guy, most any girl would probably jump at the chance to have you—I've got someone like you in love with me, and I can't even be sure enough of how I feel to tell you anything in return, good _or_ bad." He let his head fall back against the cool stone wall behind them. "If I can't be in love with someone like Yuu, who's working this hard for me...how do I stand a chance of ever being in love with _anyone_?"

There was a long stretch of silence while Chiaki's words echoed around them, and he wondered for a moment if perhaps he'd shocked Yuu into silence, or perhaps the guy had taken his words to heart, logic starting to win out over pure emotion.

"Hypothetically..."

"Eh?"

"Hypothetically," Yuu repeated calmly, arms crossed before him as he rested against the wall, head cocked to the side to regard Chiaki. "How would you feel if I said—right now—that I wanted to break up with you?" Chiaki's face went a little white, and his brows knit in confusion, and Yuu quickly quelled his worries. "I said _hypothetically_ , geez. If I said _for example_ —that I wanted us to stop whatever it is we're doing, just go back to being friends like always...how would you feel?"

Chiaki swallowed thickly, glancing away so that he didn't feel the pressure of Yuu's eyes boring into him. Yuu was asking a serious, albeit strange, question...he deserved as serious an answer. An honest response, not a pithy little _I don't know_. "Like...I did something wrong." ...Yes, that was it. That was where the sickening sensation of confusion and worry was stemming from. Like he'd failed to live up to what he'd promised Yuu he would try to do: fall in love with him. "Maybe like...you got tired of me. Of waiting for me, or maybe like...you realized it wasn't worth the trouble." He certainly wouldn't begrudge Yuu any of those feelings, after all.

Yuu just snorted derisively. "See? That's how you know it's not love." Chiaki's cheeks flushed at being so dismissively shut down, but Yuu didn't seem to notice, simply letting his head fall down to rest on his arms crossed before him, eyes half-lidded as he watched Chiaki contentedly. "Love is...feeling heartbroken and incomplete. Like you can't even remotely imagine how life will be without that person by your side. It's finding it hard to go on if you can't love that person—openly and completely—and have them return that love with exactly the same thoughts and feelings and sincerity. It's not feeling like...you failed someone, or like you weren't good enough, really. It's feeling like...you want to work even harder to make them want you. Even if it's not really possible." He snorted again, this time a shorter self-derogatory action. "I can see why you'd be wary of it."

Chiaki swallowed, watching Yuu intently when he closed his eyes and wondering not for the first time...if that was how Yuu felt about _him_.

It really wasn't fair he had to endure that all alone.

"Na, Chiaki..." Chiaki gave a jolt when Yuu continued.

"Wh-what?"

"...Is that how you really feel?"

"...Is what how I really feel?"

Yuu's eyes opened, small slits shaded in the steam of the bath. "...Like you're letting me down, disappointed in yourself for it. Like you weren't good enough." Chiaki hemmed a bit, glancing away, and startled when the water splashed around him and Yuu sat up straight again, staring Chiaki in the face so he couldn't ignore him. "That's not love, Chiaki. Don't ever think that."

Chiaki shuddered at the reminder; he'd never felt so far from the goal he'd set for himself before, and Yuu was only pounding it home. "I heard you the first time," he groused sourly. "And—fine, if it's not love, if being disappointed in yourself for not being able to make the person you care about happy _isn't_ love—then _how_ is it not?" He felt his shoulders tense and his pulse rise with the threat of confrontation. "How is not wanting someone else to be happy—more than yourself even—not love?" He lifted his hands out of the water and made small fists. "We have—friendship already. We've had that for a long time. And..." He swallowed nervously, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "...and we've done...things, so there's...obviously _some_ physical attraction I guess." His body at least didn't seem to care that the hand bringing him off was attached to a man's body; pleasure was pleasure. "And I like being around Yuu, I feel...comfortable. Whatever we're doing—work or just hanging out or _anything_." He hoped the _anything_ didn't sound as dirty to Yuu's ears as it did to Chiaki's. "So why doesn't that all just _work out_ to being something like how you feel for me?" It didn't make any _sense_.

Yuu closed his eyes again, but this time in disappointment, idle frustration that he was trying not to show Chiaki. "Love isn't—some recipe you follow, Chiaki. You can't just take bits of friendship and desire and companionship and throw it all together and expect that the emotions you'll get out will somehow equal whatever idea of love you have. It's got to be—I dunno, something _more_. Greater than the sum of its parts. You can't force it, you can't wish for it—it's either there or it isn't." He sighed. "...And maybe sometimes it just takes a while to show itself."

He reached forward and brushed a thumb across Chiaki's cheek. "You shouldn't worry so much. I know you've got the capacity to love, so—even if it's not me, you shouldn't get discouraged. Some day someone will come along and they'll sweep you off your feet—or _you'll_ sweep _them_ off _their_ feet—and it'll be amazing and thrilling, and you'll get excited and smile for no reason whatsoever, just happy beyond belief that that other person is in your life. It'll _happen_ —and that'll be when you know you've got something. It's not something you worry about _oh do I feel this? Don't I feel this_? You just...know."

Chiaki's shoulders slumped, and he let his head drop, gaze turning down to stare at the water reflecting the mosaic-tiled ceiling of the bath. Maybe it was good Yuu was so confident; he could be confident enough for the both of them, because Chiaki sure wasn't contributing much.

* * *

There was a very good reason why, three hours later, Chiaki was half naked and making out with Yuu. Really.

It wasn't _his_ fault, at least.

After finishing up in the baths, they'd quickly changed back into comfortable yukata and joined a group of other guests for dinner in one of the main halls, where trays piled high with _kaiseki_ , fresh seafood and simmering vegetable pots were set up, ready to be enjoyed. Chiaki hadn't realized how famished he was until he stepped over the threshold in the borrowed ryokan slippers and caught scent of the hotpot already bubbling. Yuu chuckled beside him when his stomach grumbled in protest, and he quickly quashed the amusement with an elbow to his ribs.

They settled in a few trays down from a family of four, the mother trying to urge her daughter—a young girl, not even in her teens yet, likely—to put down her book and eat her dinner while it was fresh.

"Check out the title." Chiaki jumped in his skin and jerked his head around, nearly banging noses with Yuu who was leaning over his shoulder and jerking his chin in the direction of the young girl, smiling. Chiaki followed his gaze and narrowed his eyes to try and make out the text on the cover.

"...Ah!" He smiled despite himself, feeling his heart rise just a bit from the murky confusion it had been mired in since their time in the baths. "...I don't think I've ever seen that..."

"What—someone reading one of your books?" Chiaki shook his head, and Yuu snorted. "Wanna go offer her an autograph?"

Chiaki rolled his eyes and broke apart his chopsticks. "And sign it what, 'Yoshikawa Chiharu'? Draw a little chibi character beside it to prove it?"

Yuu dug into his rice. "Are you going to keep playing like that forever? No one will care that you're a guy..."

"Just like no one cares that _you're_ a guy? Unwanted attention's still unwanted attention."

"Mmm," Yuu allowed ambivalently, swallowing thickly before adding, "I guess I can see why Hatori would want to keep you to himself in that respect."

"Don't start," Chiaki warned, reaching for his tea.

Dinner dragged on for another hour, with several of the hotel staff members holding an impromptu little show for the guests and inviting a few of the children up for a karaoke tournament that ended with mochi ice cream as prizes for all participants—quickly followed by the same dessert for the rest of the guests as well and warm sake for the adults. Chiaki nudged his cup towards Yuu when he caught his friend eyeing it longingly. "Meals like this are better finished off with a cold beer anyways."

"Heathen," Yuu quipped, knocking back the contents in a single gulp and sighing loudly, to the amusement of an old couple across the room, but he still told Chiaki to head back up to their room ahead of him and showed up fifteen minutes later toting a bag of chilled beers and snack food from the nearby conbini.

Chiaki relieved him of one of the beers before he'd even toed off his slippers, snatching up the bag and shuffling back into the room. "Now _this_ is a vacation!"

"Because you just can't find good beer and snack food in Tokyo, right?" Chiaki made a rude gesture. "Manners, Yoshino-sensei. I bought you booze and pocky; shouldn't you show a bit more gratitude?"

Chiaki hunched his shoulders and slipped down to the tatami matting, leaning against the low table as he popped the tab on his beer, downing a single long sip before releasing a sigh that rivaled Yuu's own earlier one. He raised the can to toast Yuu. "To my very best, most reliable assistant in the world. Yanase Yuu. Without whom I would not have booze and pocky right now."

"...That's more like it."

Yuu left most of the beer to Chiaki's disposal, instead pouring himself cups of a sickly sweet-smelling sake that he had obtained from the proprietress downstairs after their meal. The alcohol loosened Chiaki's lips as well as muscles, and he started brainstorming aloud a new arc he was considering taking his manga in over the next few months, bouncing ideas off of Yuu that he returned with either short murmurs of assent or, "Your readers would roast you alive for that."

"You think it's a bad idea?" Chiaki shook an empty can over his mouth, trying to squeeze the last bit of booze from it, to no avail. "It doesn't sound so bad to me..."

"Of course it doesn't." Yuu reached forward and snatched away the can, stuffing it into the plastic trash bag with the other cans. "Nothing sounds like a terrible idea after four beers." He rolled up onto his knees and stood on legs which shook more from disuse over the last hour than the alcohol he'd imbibed and darted forward to snatch the remaining two unopened cans from Chiaki's grasp. "It's past 9, sensei. Let's pace ourselves tonight, shall we?" He shuffled over to his bag and dropped the beers into it, pulling out instead his sketch pad, a pencil tucked away inside the spiral binding. "Here—hop up in the chair by the shouji."

Chiaki craned his neck around to see what Yuu was doing. "Eh? Why?" Yuu just stalked forward and grabbed his arm, tugging him up. "Oi—cut it out, I can walk—" He demonstrated this by promptly tripping over his own feet and grabbing tight to Yuu's waist—subsequently bringing him down into a pile of limbs on the floor. "Oww..."

"Oww yourself," Yuu grunted, tossing his sketchbook to the side with a frown and tugging on the flaps to his yukata while gently freeing himself from underneath Chiaki. "I don't remember you being this much of a lightweight."

"Not drunk," Chiaki groaned, rolling onto his back beside Yuu. "I tripped is all." He twisted around to see the discarded sketchbook and snorted. "You're gonna draw me _again_?"

"I was planning on it, until you tackled me."

"It was an accident. And you _always_ draw me. Isn't it boring?"

"Chiaki~" Yuu practically sang, shaking his head and rolling up onto his knees, placing one hand on either side of Chiaki's head to lean over him. "Why on earth would I get tired of staring at you for hours on end?"

Chiaki frowned. "'Cause you're a freak with weird taste."

"I have impeccable taste. I believe we've been over this before."

"I'm going to assume 'impeccable' means weird. Let me up."

"Why?"

"You want me in the chair, don't you?"

Yuu cocked his head, gaze sly and calculating. "...I changed my mind." He leaned down quickly and brushed his lips across Chiaki's cheek when he jerked his head to the side, voice low and breath ticklish against Chiaki's ear. "I think I want you right here."

Chiaki froze, heart pounding in his chest as he reassessed the situation with slightly more honed senses now. He was flat on his back, most of his chest exposed where the yukata was slipping off his shoulders, and he was a lot tipsier than he wanted to let on to Yuu. How did this always seem to happen to him? His only saving grace was that at least he was still wearing the thin bottoms from earlier he'd slipped on when they joined the other guests for dinner—but such material was all too easily discarded when one was getting carried away with oneself. "I thought...you wanted to draw me, though?"

Yuu pulled back, expression smug and satisfied as he pressed a strand of Chiaki's hair behind his ear. "I can draw you any time I want in the studio. Maybe we should do something we _can't_ do around Kurihara-san." He dropped lower, pausing just with a few breaths of space between their lips as he shifted to straddle Chiaki and brought his hands up just dragging along Chiaki's sides to ease his yukata open further, flicking a finger lightly over one nipple and smiling when Chiaki's breath hitched in response. "Right?"

"She'd...probably like it if we did..." The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement when Yuu laughed at the idea. "...You look pretty good when you laugh, you know."

The laughter died down into soft chuckles, and Chiaki could smell the sickly sweet sake on Yuu's breath, tilting his head just to the side so their noses didn't bump when he tipped up his chin to try and meet Yuu's lips. It wasn't that he _wanted_ to kiss so much, but waiting around for Yuu to get on with it was getting annoying. He was in the mood now, as much as he was going to get, and Yuu's fingers were still skittering across his chest and raising goosebumps in their wake. If they were going to make out, it needed to happen _now_ dammit.

Maybe he said it out loud, or maybe Yuu just _understood_ from his body language, but an instant later and Chiaki's head was being pressed back into the firm tatami beneath him as Yuu licked the seam of his lips, urging entrance and letting his tongue dart inside to stroke against Chiaki's, who grunted weakly in protest at the swift escalation before letting himself be carried along by Yuu's eagerness.

It was difficult enough to keep his senses focused on any one sensation—Yuu's lips, tongue, fingers, even the subtle fullness of his body as he moved to straddle Chiaki, torso blocking out the lamp that hung down over the table and casting a shadow over Chiaki's face—let alone try and form any coherent thoughts of his own, to tell his own lips and tongue and fingers how to respond. There was only instinctual movement—which luckily enough seemed to be all Yuu expected from him. He dipped his fingers beneath the loosely tied obi and pressed the flaps of the yukata aside, brushing his fingers along the sensitive skin of Yuu's abdomen. It jerked reflexively beneath him, and Yuu pulled back, ending the kiss with a gasp and glancing down between them.

"That tickles..." he protested roughly, and Chiaki chuckled at the petulant response. "What? It _did_..." Before Chiaki could return with a subtle swipe at him for acting childish, though, he captured his lips again, this time in a slower, deeper kiss, and distracted Chiaki from making any further inroads at throwing Yuu off his game by giving one palm a perfunctory lick and teasing one of Chiaki's nipples into erection with a brush of a few fingers. When Chiaki groaned again into his mouth, this time less of a protest and more of a keening cry, Yuu had to let up for a moment, panting like he'd run a marathon. "You've really got to stop doing that..."

"St...stop what?" Chiaki's mind was everywhere and nowhere, and he only registered Yuu's admonition from far away.

"Being that fucking sexy." He laughed again when Chiaki's cheeks lit up with shame. "What— _now_ you're embarrassed?"

"Sh-shut up." He glanced away, pretending to be interested in one of the watercolor paintings hanging on the wall. "I'm not used to...this kind of thing."

"I know," Yuu reminded. "I love that."

"Love _wha_ — _shit_." He took in a great gasp when a damp, warm palm cupped him through the thin linen pants he was wearing, two fingers tracing down the outline of his half-hard shaft to the root and back up again, circling the crown where a spot of wetness was starting to form.

"How responsive you are," Yuu clarified coolly, but his voice was shaking a bit, and even from beneath him, Chiaki could feel the heat radiating from his skin, could almost hear the blood rushing through him, could see the way desire was starting to make Yuu's pupils dilate even in their bright room. "I wish you could see yourself..."

Chiaki flipped his head to the other side—nothing to see here but his suitcase and two discarded, unopened beer cans, unfortunately. "No one gets off to themselves, idiot."

"Didn't say you were supposed to get off on it." He leaned over Chiaki's face, close enough to feel the body heat. "Just want to show you what I see."

Chiaki swallowed. "You're really weird."

"Maybe..." Yuu allowed, then after a beat, he added, "...It's not so bad being weird if I get to see you like this though." He punctuated this with a rougher squeeze to Chiaki's clothed cock, brushing his thumb across the crown. "Let me touch you?"

"You're—already touching me," he grunted, but still lifted his hips a bit at Yuu's guidance so that he could strip away the thin pants and take Chiaki fully in hand. "Shit."

"What?"

"Nothing—just kind of cold when you're naked, I guess."

Yuu frowned, then pressed Chiaki's legs together so that he could shuffle on top, fanning open his yukata to almost form a tent, trapping their body heat between them as he straddled Chiaki. "Better?"

"A little..." Chiaki admitted, gulping when his gaze fell across Yuu's bare chest. They'd never been this exposed around each other before; not when it _mattered_ at least. Trips to the beach, relaxing at an onsen, bathing together when they were in middle school—those sorts of situation where nudity was expected were one thing. But...this was different. This was baring yourself to another person, having them be bared for you, sizing one another up and judging the quality of the goods presented. And Yuu...presented quite nicely for a guy. Quite nicely for a _human being_ really...

He liked _girls_ ; the male physique had never really done anything for him before, but just...when Yuu was here, turned on and straddling him and exposing Chiaki to hard lines and sharp angles and firm muscles beneath toned skin, it...wasn't entirely undesirable. At all, really. It made him want to reach out and touch, stroke a finger along the lines of Yuu's abdomen again and see him jerk in response. Those kinds of unrestrained, natural movements fascinated him.

He heard Yuu gasp softly in his ear and realized belatedly that he'd reached one hand out, fingers brushing against the bunched elastic waistband of the thin pants Yuu was still wearing. He moved to jerk his hand back, but Yuu quickly snapped out and grabbed his wrist, holding it in place before just as quickly releasing it with a swiftly muttered apology.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to... Just, if you wanted. I don't mind..."

Chiaki tried to crane his head back enough to look Yuu in the face, but all he could catch was a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, and instead he glanced back down between them and made a fist of determination. Yuu shifted above him angling his hips a bit closer, and Chiaki brushed a tentative finger over the tented material where something strained against Yuu's pants, filling out the material and falling heavy against Yuu's thigh.

It was hot—just like the rest of Yuu. Chiaki swallowed thickly and ran two fingers down the shaft like Yuu had done to him, ignoring the urge to pull his hand away when Yuu gasped in his ear, almost pained, and instead steeled himself to lean forward to dip two fingers under the hem and ease them down just far enough to expose Yuu fully. He didn't say anything—there wasn't anything _to_ say, really, when you had another guy's cock in your hand and didn't quite know what to do with it—but Yuu pressed a soft kiss just below his ear and started breathing heavily against his neck when Chiaki mimicked Yuu's motions, brushing his thumb across the crown and greasing his fingers with the thick, pearlescent liquid collecting at the tip.

" _Fuck_ ," was the cursed murmur in his ear, and he assumed he must be doing something right. As an addendum, Yuu renewed his own attentions to Chiaki, giving his palm another quick lick before coaxing Chiaki's cock into full erection much more quickly than Chiaki had accomplished.

"'S not...a race..." Chiaki warned through grit teeth, going about his task with more methodical strokes, squeezing tight on the downstroke to coat the shaft cleanly with more of the precum. " _Easy_."

Yuu laughed in his ear. "Told you before—I'm gonna be embarrassingly quick with you touching me. Just—evening things out is all." It was cramped with the both of them trying to angle their hips to facilitate access while at the same time trying to keep up an easy rhythm to their strokes, gauging their progress by charting the other's steadily quickening breaths.

Chiaki distantly heard his voice take on a keening whine as he urged Yuu on, faster tighter quicker, pushing up with his hips and increasing his own strokes, imagining he was working himself off and _so so close almost there almost fuck_ —

Yuu came with a grunting cry between them, the splotches of semen that fell upon Chiaki's chest the last straw to push himself over the edge, and they both continued working each other, powering down their strokes to longer, more languid tugs until they'd both spent themselves satisfactorily, slipping boneless back to the matting beneath them while filling the air with deep, labored breaths.

Chiaki stared at the ceiling, counting the pits in the tiles above them, for a few long moments before he found his voice. "That..."

"...Hm...?" Yuu sounded pleasantly fatigued, more so than one might normally be even at an onsen.

"That needs to be...something we do. More of." He nodded a few times to reassure himself, then cocked his head to the side, frowning, when Yuu laughed loudly. "What?"

Yuu shook his head, waving him off. "Just...wondering if I can report it as overtime."


	14. Chapter 14

Chiaki had to admit, by the time they were resting on the train back to Tokyo, that Yuu had pretty good taste in vacation spots. Not that he intended on telling the guy that aloud, but inside the comfort of his mind, he could allow that okay, an onsen may not have seemed at first sight to be quite as glamorous a getaway as Tokyo Disney or Fujikyuu, but there was something to be said about being able to breathe fresh, fragrant air and clear your lungs with the fall breeze, wandering around a local temple's weekend bazaar and buying chintzy souvenirs for the other assistants, and eating more fresh food in a 48-hour period than he typically did the whole year round.

He was really going to miss it—and he could already _see_ the pages of crisp, white drawing paper calling out to him, reminding him that he'd wasted his whole weekend with Yuu and now it was about to come back and bite him in the ass.

It had still been worth it, for the most part.

Something brushed his shoulder, and he glanced to the side—only to get a face full of Yuu's hair where his head had lolled to the side in his sleep as they were buffeted along by the bouncing train car. He leaned over enough to bump Yuu back upright, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. The guy could sleep anywhere—Chiaki, in turn, was quite particular about his sleeping arrangements. Tori's bed was definitely the best; it put his own king-size to shame. Yuu's wasn't bad either—but he tried not to think too hard about the last time he'd slept in Yuu's bed.

Not because he was ashamed of it, or he hadn't liked it, but just…it seemed wrong to think about those kinds of things at half past noon on a Sunday morning. Anything involving Yuu and beds and _that_ sort of thing were best addressed after nightfall and in private—if they had to be addressed at all.

"Are we almost there?" The tail of Yuu's question was half-lost in a loud yawn, and he shifted forward to stretch his arms over his head. "How long was I out?"

"Half hour or so I guess."

He regarded Chiaki with half-lidded eyes still heavy with sleep. "Mmm, bored without me?"

Chiaki slumped back against his seat. "Just thinking about the mountain of work waiting for me when I get back."

"Nooo no no, it's still Sunday." He made a face and covered his ears. "We're _not_ talking about work until Monday at the earliest."

Chiaki rolled his eyes but couldn't fight a small smile. "Easy for you to say—you're just the assistant. You know I still haven't figured out how to tie up that side-plot nicely? Tori keeps griping at me that it's too quick and painless, that I need to put more emotion into it."

Yuu snorted derisively. "Yeah, cause if there's anyone who'd know about emotion and drama, it's _that guy_."

" _Yuu_."

He ignored the admonition. "Geez, at least leave off the shop talk until we get back to the metropolitan area, would you?"

Chiaki finally caved and waved him off. "Fine, fine." He crossed his arms before him and closed his eyes. "But I'm blaming it all on you if the manuscript doesn't get out on time."

* * *

Chiaki managed to keep his promise not to discuss work until they got back into Tokyo, dragging himself and his luggage back to his condo with decidedly less energy than he'd had leaving it. His phone had buzzed in his back pocket—a text message—halfway back from the station nearest his condo, and he flipped it open while flat on his back in his bed, catching his breath from the trek, and frowned. Tori, wanting to know how the manuscript was coming along.

He hadn't _lied_ to Tori about going off with Yuu over the weekend…but he hadn't been entirely truthful either. Saying that he was "definitely going to try" to get some work out of the way before Monday was hardly an untruth—but…going to an onsen wasn't exactly conducive to getting much work done. He groaned to himself, pondering what he should do.

Ignore the text, and pretend he hadn't gotten it? If he did, Tori might come banging on his door wondering why he was avoiding him (it wouldn't be the first time Chiaki had tried such tactics). If he responded—was he supposed to lie? If he said he had 10 pages done and Tori showed up out of the blue tomorrow wanting proof, how was that going to play out? If he told the truth—that he'd spent the weekend at an onsen with Yuu—that would be…bad, for a lot of reasons.

He opened up a response screen and started punching away at the keys. _/Working on the panels now; can have a rough draft to go over by mid-week./_ There, that was succinct and vague enough that Tori couldn't hassle him. He hoped.

He snapped the phone shut again and tossed it to the side, letting his eyes fall shut and taking a few deep, calming breaths.

Had he accomplished anything he'd set out to do this weekend?

It'd definitely been nice—not just the baths, but the company, the environment even. Despite what they'd done on their first night there, Yuu hadn't pushed for anything else, and Chiaki had decidedly not asked for anything. They'd slept as they might have slept any other time, curled up in their separate futons on the floor, and if Yuu was at all uncomfortable sleeping so close to Chiaki without touching or doing anything remotely physical, he didn't show it. Indeed, Chiaki himself seemed to be more worked up by the imagined intimacy, which was just _absurd_.

Still…if he thought about it, he probably wouldn't have turned the guy away if he'd made another move. Just—it was the _waiting_ that was the worst part. The wondering when the other shoe would fall, what little gesture would turn into something more, where he'd find himself when one or the other made a remark which set off a chain reaction that culminated in the both of them breathing hard and feeling a pleasant sense of satiation, waiting for the strength to return to their legs.

Now perhaps even more than before, he could feel those worries and wonderings tailing him. _Shit_ —had he just made things even worse?

* * *

"…This doesn't look like a weekend's worth of work."

Chiaki tried to suppress the urge to flinch; after this long, he really should have been used to the subtle icy jabs that laced themselves in Tori's otherwise civil words, but somehow he always seemed to feel like a child being lectured whenever he met up with his editor. He swallowed and continued to stir his coffee, slipping a little further down in his chair. "I, uh…had a little bit of writer's block is all. It's an important point in the story—I didn't want to half-ass it."

"Indeed. I imagine it's hard to concentrate much on work when there's a lovely rotenburo waiting downstairs and _kaiseki_ for dinner."

Chiaki nodded. "I didn't think it was possible to eat too much _kaise_ —AH." His mouth gaped, and they attracted a few stares. "You—but, how did—?"

The furrow between Hatori's brows deepened. "Yanase had the good graces to have some daifuku sent to the Emerald offices as a souvenir. Do thank him for me when you see him. His card was greatly appreciated, too; though I could have done without the rather elaborate illustration he felt he needed to include."

Chiaki's ears burned with shame, and he wanted to curl into a ball. "I _told_ him to stop doing things to piss you off—"

"I'm quite sure that's impossible for him."

He slumped against the table, arms out flat in front of him. "I didn't mean to _not_ tell you. It was—sudden is all."

"I'm sure."

"You don't have to guilt me about it!"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort. And keep your voice down." He took a calm sip of his coffee. "I'm your editor, not your keeper. It's not as if you need to report everything you do in your free time to me."

Chiaki relaxed, but somehow didn't feel one whit comforted. Tori was being nice—or was trying not to make a scene. It wasn't as if he hadn't told the guy what he was doing that weekend out of spite, or because he felt his editor didn't have any reason to know what he did in his private life. Tori had never been just an _editor_ —he was one of Chiaki's very best friends. And he'd kept quiet about his plans with Yuu for one reason and one reason only—which they both understood fully and were neither one of them addressing.

"…Did you have a good time at least?"

"Eh?" Chiaki shot back up straight, eyes wide. It was…conversational. Normal, almost. _Chit-chatting_. And Hatori Yoshiyuki didn't _chit-chat_. He shifted in his chair. "It…wasn't bad. I hadn't been to an onsen in a while, and it was nice to get away from work." He winced when he realized that it probably sounded like he was lumping Hatori in with _work_ while pointedly reminding the guy that Yuu was _not_. He tried to save himself by adding, "It was a good chance to do a little bit of research, though! Made me think about having the school send the classes on a field trip in a future arc, maybe…"

Hatori nodded evenly, flipping through the pages he'd already gone through several times over, expression unchanging.

"…I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For…" Chiaki paused, voice in his throat. "—not telling you. That I was going there with Yuu."

Hatori sighed shortly. "It's none of my business, really. There's nothing to apologize for."

There's a _lot_ to apologize for—he wanted to snap this, but he checked himself. "But—still, there's been a lot going on between all of us lately, and I feel like I haven't been as good a friend to either of you as I should be…"

"I was under the impression you were trying to _avoid_ being 'just friends' with Yanase." It was hard to tell how much of the jab was in jest, and how much of it was hiding true spite.

He had a point, though. In the few days since they'd returned from their impromptu vacation, Chiaki really hadn't made many strides to build upon that which he'd started to consider, to accept at the ryokan. Yuu had meetings and prior engagements every night so far, cutting out before the other assistants even and leaving Chiaki confused—wondering why their interactions seemed to have snapped back to 'normal' after he'd made it clear he very much _wanted_ to be rid of these wavering feelings.

He did his best to avoid it—but they were getting dangerously close to falling back into their old roles. Did Yuu not understand that? Did he not _get_ that if he didn't _do_ something, then Chiaki was never going to feel comfortable thinking of him as anything more than a dear friend—did he even _care_?

He wiped his face with one hand and ran his fingers through his hair, leaning forward and resting his head on his elbows. "I _am_ trying. It's just…hard."

Hatori raised a brow, glancing up silently from the pages. "I've seen your definition of 'trying' before. I'm doubtful it's really your level best."

"Shut up," Chiaki groused, before realizing with a sudden jolt that…he was essentially getting dating advice from _Hatori_ just now. He lifted his head up, eyes wide. "…You really think I'm not trying hard enough?"

Hatori tossed aside the stack with a sigh, replacing the binder clip to hold them all in place. "Are we really going to do this?"

"Well—it's not like I have anyone _else_ I can ask," he returned defensively. And he probably seemed obtuse, thicker than brick and mortar, but it was no less true. If Hatori could set aside his feelings for Chiaki and keep their friendship and professional relationship intact, why couldn't Chiaki do the same and come to him for advice as he might have before?

Hatori wiped his hand over his face, massaging his temples. "Fine—then, what exactly is your problem? You're obviously well aware of Yanase's feelings, and yet you can't seem to figure out your own? Am I supposed to draw you a map?"

"I can—figure them out fine! Probably." He hunched his shoulders and dropped his voice, uncertainty entering his tone. "Just…it would probably take a long time. And that's not fair to Yuu. And I wouldn't even know when I've figured it out anyways."

Hatori raised his brows, but this was the only evidence he was remotely moved by Chiaki's display. "So you're being your usual frustratingly indecisive self."

He shot Hatori a look. "You think I'm not seriously trying to give this my best shot? I care about him—as much as I care about you. I just…don't want to hurt him. I don't want to promise him something and then be wrong about it. I want…to be one-hundred-percent sure."

Hatori snorted. "As if it's possible to be that sure of your feelings."

"So, what—you're saying you aren't even sure about how _you_ feel?" He hoped it struck a nerve.

Hatori's frown was menacing. "I meant _you_. Specifically." But he quickly put the mask back up and stirred his coffee, which had long since gone lukewarm. "Perhaps the problem isn't so much the effort you're putting into it as the effort _he_ is."

"Eh? But—Yuu's doing a lot, he's being really nice in trying to—"

"Exactly." He finished off the coffee in one gulp. "You're pushing yourself towards him—but he's trying to pull you at the same time. So somewhere, something inside of you is resisting that pull." He shrugged. "Stop playing so defensive."

"…Huh?"

Hatori sighed loudly, leaning forward onto his elbows. "You're constantly being chased in this analogy, you realize? You can't even put your whole self into making an effort to get closer to him—because you're trying not to get dragged along in the process. If you keep running like this—and Yanase catches you, then it simply amounts to being caught because you were tired and not because you genuinely wanted anything. It's rude to Yanase—and unfulfilling to you as well, I'd expect."

Chiaki blinked, letting Hatori's words wash over him and settle into the little cracks and crevices of his mind. "So…because I'm being chased…"

"…You don't have time to think or respond." He waved a hand. "So you're left with these half-assed, confused feelings that you try to convince yourself may or may not be love or some variation thereon. It's no way to start a relationship."

Chiaki swallowed, then blinked in confusion. "Wait—but, then…what am I supposed to do?"

Hatori rolled his eyes. "I really have to spell everything out for you? You're hopeless."

"It's a _simple quest_ —"

"Make a move yourself, idiot." He snatched up his cell phone where it lay on the table, checking for any missed texts. "Be proactive. Stop sitting on your ass feeling confused and lonely and having your own private pity party." He pushed back his chair and whipped on his coat, tugging on the lapels to straighten it. "And do try and snap it up. I don't want to have this conversation again."

* * *

Hatori's advice may have been sound and well-received, but…that didn't make it any easier to carry out. The afternoon was a busy one in the studio, Chiaki being forced every five minutes to critique a complicated crowd scene that one of the newer assistants was working on. He offered silent thanks to Kurihara-san who picked up on his tension and offered the young woman advice when she looked like she wanted to slink over to Chiaki's table for the third time in fifteen minutes.

"Rough morning, Sensei?" Yuu quipped slyly, keeping his voice low. "Should I be jealous at how easy it is for Hatori to rile you up?"

"It's nothing," Chiaki groused, before releasing a soft _ah_ of realization and hissing in accusation, "You told him about the trip!"

Yuu glanced up, meeting Chiaki's gaze. "…Was I not supposed to?"

"Well— _no_ , but I didn't want to…" He trailed off, realizing he hadn't explicitly said otherwise, so while Yuu had clearly pulled his stunt to piss off Tori, he hadn't really done anything that Chiaki had asked him not to. "Any time you tick him off, though, it always comes back to bite me."

Yuu smiled to himself and turned back to his work. "I can kiss it better if you'd like?"

As usual, the rest of the assistants clocked out just as the sun was setting, bidding Chiaki and each other good night and leaving Yuu and he alone for the evening. Yuu stretched tall, popping a few joints in the process. "I'm gonna wind up with a hunchback by the time I'm 40 leaning over that desk all day." He shook his dominant arm, flexing his fingers. "And arthritis."

Chiaki snapped his satchel shut, slinging it over his shoulder. "Tori likes to remind me that the manga industry's going to chew me up and spit out my bones."

"Is that before or after your fans rip you to shreds when it comes out that Marukawa's girliest mangaka is actually a guy?"

"You think they'd be that pissed?"

"I think they'd be that desperate to get a piece of you." He raised a calculating brow. "You've never thought about it? Your popularity'd only _skyrocket_ if you came clean."

"Seriously?"

Yuu coughed, disguising a rough laugh. "Chicks are weird that way." Which was true as far as Chiaki could tell. "Want to get dinner?"

"Ah—oh." His heart immediately leaped up in his throat, nearly choking him, and he fished around in his pocket for his cellphone, flipping open the display and pretending to casually check a text. "I was thinking maybe—yeah, dinner?"

Yuu laughed softly. "You don't sound very certain…"

"No, I mean—" He checked himself. "Yes, sure. Dinner. And—we could go to a movie too maybe?" He tried to sound casual. "I was looking up show times earlier, and there's a later flick we could probably make at…" He trailed off, catching Yuu's semi-shocked expression. "…What?"

Yuu's mouth opened and closed a few times before he shook his head and pasted on a smile. "I…no—sure. Sure, definitely—sounds good…" He cocked his head to the side, brows furrowed in bemusement. "…You've never suggested anything before, is all."

Chiaki flushed lightly, feeling himself growing defensive. "Something wrong with that?"

"Nope. Not at all." He looked entirely too smug for Chiaki's taste.

* * *

It turned out the only thing more ulcer-inducingly difficult than being proactive once was being proactive _twice_ , especially when you didn't want to _sound_ like you had designs. And Chiaki had designs—oh, he definitely had designs. He had…designs upon designs. And he was damn well going to carry them out. Somehow.

It didn't help that Yuu's way of breaking the tension that was almost _audible_ between them on the train home—after Chiaki suggested they go to his place (as it was closer) for a drink—was to laugh, "What, worried I'll make a move?"

 _No_ , Chiaki wanted to snap back. _I'm worried_ I _will…_.

Yuu was probably enjoying himself more or less—right now he was babbling excitedly about the climax of the movie, and the Italian they'd had for dinner had been a new place Chiaki had been wanting to try that had more than lived up to expectations. But Chiaki was sitting here next to him wondering if Yuu could perhaps hear his heart pounding furiously in his chest—and what he could say to explain it away when called out on it.

They picked up a few beers from the Lawsons near Chiaki's station and wandered up the lonely hill to Chiaki's condo in comfortable silence, the only sound Chiaki's still swiftly beating heart and the soft crunch of gravel against asphalt. "You know…"

"Hm?"

"Umm…Taneguchi-sensei—you know Taneguchi-sensei?"

"Ah…" Chiaki thought, wracking his brain. "Taneguchi…Yoshiko? _Ai ga Kanau Made_? That one?"

Yuu nodded. "She wants to hire me on a contract. Not a long one—like, three months or so." He spoke in a hurried voice, like he'd been preparing this. "And she's a really big name and all, but…"

"Wait— _'but'_?" Chiaki tugged on his jacket. "Eh? Take it! That's good experience!" Yuu huffed softly, and Chiaki's brows knit. "What's that reaction for?"

"…It's in Osaka."

Chiaki nearly tripped over himself, half his body wanting to stop dead in his tracks and the other half carried forward by momentum. He scrambled to keep up with Yuu, who continued plodding forward robotically.

"O…saka…" It wasn't the other side of the country. It wasn't even a few hours on a bullet train. But…it wasn't Tokyo. It wasn't anywhere near Tokyo. It was…Osaka. And it was where Yuu was being offered a quite lucrative position that perfectly suited his style of not wanting to be tied down to any one mangaka.

And then—Chiaki really _did_ stop in his tracks. Because the first thing he almost let slip out of his mouth was _No_. No—like it was even remotely his place to tell Yuu how to live his life, to ask Yuu not to go so far away for so long when they weren't anything to one another other than two people in a confused, muddled mess of a relationship. Like he wasn't the biggest, most selfish ass in the world for even _thinking_ that.

Yuu sighed loudly, snapping him back to the present, and looped his arm under Chiaki's, dragging him forward. "Stop sulking. I'm not taking it."

He knew what he was supposed to say. He was supposed to react and push Yuu away, shake a finger in his face and lecture him about being responsible, that Chiaki didn't need 'protection' or anything like that, that he could handle putting out a good product without Yuu standing over him all the time, that three months was just ninety days, just twelve new _Za Kan_ chapters.

Instead he just flexed his arms and pulled Yuu closer, leaning his head on his shoulder and burying his face against the thick material of his coat, keeping his voice low and muffled so that maybe Yuu wouldn't hear how pathetic he sounded when he said, "…Thank you."

They didn't speak again until Chiaki had downed nearly half of his beer in one long draw, sighing loudly as he leaned against the couch cushions behind him and letting his eyes flutter shut listening to Yuu gulp down his own. He still felt a buzzing uneasiness beneath his skin, but the beer would do wonders to put that away.

Still, he didn't want to get drunk tonight. He didn't want to be tipsy or buzzed or anything. He just…wanted to retain his faculties. Or else he might never know how much of this was what he wanted and how much of it was what he just needed badly enough that he could push his conscience aside and let the flow take him where it would.

"So what did Hatori say?"

"Eh?" Chiaki jerked his head up to find Yuu staring at him, brows raised inquisitively. "Tori?"

"You met with him didn't you? When he mentioned…about the onsen?"

"Ah…" He shifted on the couch, leaning forward to set his beer on the low table before them. "He just…mentioned that you sent some daifuku to the Emerald offices." He cocked his head in confusion. "And…something about a card with a drawing?"

"Oh—that." Yuu didn't elaborate, just smiled knowingly to himself and shrugged. "I was being polite."

"You were being _antagonistic_."

"I really didn't realize you hadn't mentioned anything," Yuu reminded, adding. "…Why didn't you?"

Chiaki shrugged, taking a swig of his beer before returning it to the table. "It didn't…seem like something to tell him."

Yuu _hmm_ ed knowingly but let the matter drop—a nicety, since Chiaki hadn't pressed him to know what exactly he'd drawn on the card he'd given Tori. "…So what now?"

"Eh?"

Yuu gestured towards the television sitting atop a small entertainment system. "You want to watch another movie or something? Got any good rentals? Ah—" He paused, mouth forming an 'o' of realization, and he shook his head. "But better make it something quick—it's almost 11; I can't make my last train if it's a movie, so..."

"...'n stay."

"Eh?" Yuu leaned forward, cocking his ear to hear better, and Chiaki fisted his hands in his pant material, squeezing as if by doing so he might muster up the courage he was desperately looking for.

"I _said_ ," Chiaki repeated in a huff, frustrated more with himself than Yuu, "...You can just stay over, then."

There was a long span of silence, excruciatingly so, punctuated by Yuu's soft, nervous chuckles. "That's...I mean, I do appreciate the offer, but maybe..." He made a few gestures in the air; Chiaki was definitely throwing him off his game today, and it made him feel a bit superior for once to be on the giving end of such anxiety. That Yuu wasn't all the smooth, slick player he seemed when he was courting Chiaki was...comforting, in a way. Relieving. "...I really don't think it's a good—"

"It's fine." Chiaki was resolute, and he closed his eyes and took a breath, running his script through his head. "It's fine. I...know what it means. I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were _stupid_."

"Then you should understand all the more that I'm serious." He licked his lips. "Just...I know, really. It's not fair to keep asking you to work harder, to try harder just because things aren't happening the way I'd like them to. I can't put—all the responsibility for this on you." He nodded, more to assure himself than Yuu. "I should...make some effort myself. If I want anything to happen." He swallowed and twisted around to face Yuu, brows knit. "And—I do, you know? I don't know _what_ , but I do want—"

His words were muffled against Yuu's lips where he darted forward, cradling Chiaki's head in his hands and pressing for a deeper kiss, letting his jaw drop open to suck on Chiaki's lower lip before pushing in to stroke his tongue against Chiaki's. "You're amazing," he managed breathily with a smile, drawing back and pressing a few softer kisses to the corner of his mouth. "Seriously, just...too good for me..."

Chiaki's own breathing was peaking now, and he licked his lips nervously. "...You keep saying that. Are you trying to convince me, or you?" Yuu laughed, a loud bark, and Chiaki frowned. "Someone's full of himself..."

Yuu laughed again, this time a deep, rough rumble that sent a shiver through Chiaki when he leaned forward and brushed his lips across Chiaki's ear. "Na, Chiaki..."

"Wh-what?" Yuu shifted on the couch to stand, letting one hand shoot out to grab Chiaki by the wrist and jerk him up and forward, sending him practically sprawling into Yuu's arms. He protested this with an annoyed huff, "Geez, don't be so rough—" He stiffened with a gasp when Yuu brought his free hand up and brushed a thumb across his cheek. "Yuu...?"

From this angle, he could easily see Yuu's throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed nervously, could feel his breath still coming in soft, short pants. "...Can we go to bed?"

Chiaki's heart leapt up in his throat, and a million thoughts raced through his head at once, all crashing and collapsing into so much incomprehensible dust. "I—that's..." He licked his lips and glanced away, not entirely certain he trusted himself to even properly respond. "That's..."

Yuu pressed his forehead to Chiaki's, tugging on his wrist for his attention like a child. "It doesn't have to be that... I just—want to." He let his head drop lower, brushing another kiss just below his ear. "Right now, this isn't enough."

Chiaki swallowed thickly, clenching his fists at his sides, and nodded twice in short, quick motions.

Maybe he wasn't the only one getting tired of this _in between_ state.

He let Yuu lead him silently into his bedroom—which looking back was a bit strange. It was _his_ bedroom, after all; why did he have to take a backseat? But he'd done about as much _initiative taking_ as he could stomach that evening, and Yuu didn't seem intent on letting Chiaki dawdle any longer, so he followed in a rather robotic fashion, simply placing one foot in front of the other until Yuu released his grip on his wrist and shuffled further inside, leaving Chiaki to his own devices while he disrobed.

Chiaki pondered for a moment whether or not he should turn on the light—before deciding against it. He didn't want to have to disentangle himself from whatever they were about to do to worry about dousing the light before turning in. Not that—he intended for there to be anything _happening_ , but he knew from experience that his inhibitions lowered the more turned on he got, and while he wasn't quite ready to open himself up fully just yet...he couldn't discount the possibility.

He hated this, though. Not knowing what to expect. He wanted to know what Yuu was to him, what he was to Yuu, and what they expected and wanted from one another. Right now, _none_ of that was remotely clear, and it _grated so_.

"You're going to sleep in your clothes?" Yuu's voice, thick with amusement and some darker, more subtle emotion, cut through his thoughts.

"Eh?" He glanced down at himself—and then at Yuu, who'd stripped down to his boxers and was tugging down the covers. He hadn't completed any of the typical nightly rituals that one engaged in before bedding down—meaning he wasn't really all that focused on _sleeping_. Chiaki gulped down a bundle of nerves. "Ah—no, sorry... I was zoning out."

Yuu pursed his lips. "...I can sleep on the couch, you know." He didn't sound like this was something he was looking forward to. "I really didn't mean to imply..."

Chiaki shook his head and worked to yank his shirt off, pulling his undershirt with it over his head in one fell swoop. "Just...shut up. The more you talk, the more difficult it is to hear me convince myself this isn't the stupidest thing I've ever considered doing..."

Yuu snorted. "You've definitely done stupider things than sleep in the same bed as me. I can be a gentleman, you know."

Chiaki flushed, remembering the last time they'd slept together. Sure, Yuu hadn't touched him then—but that was mostly only because he'd touched all he wanted only a few minutes before then. He yanked his zipper down with a huff, fingers shaking and finding difficulty in gaining traction on the metal clasp. "So you're saying all you want to do is sleep in the same bed as me?"

Cool, dry fingers brushed over his own, steadying his grip and easing the hem of his pants down around his hips until the material fell to the floor, pooling around his legs in a pile. "...You might not believe it, but yes."

Slowly, Chiaki raised his eyes up to look Yuu in the face, finding his own gaze hidden in shadow, his pupils reflecting the little bit of light filtering through his window. "...I really was trying to do something on my own today, you know."

"I noticed."

"It's just—hard, is all."

"You're telling me." He let a hand fall to brush just at Chiaki's waist. "Step out of your clothes—it's chilly."

"You're not my mother."

"No, that's Hatori's job." Chiaki was glad for the darkness, which hid his smile well. "Come on." He felt Yuu's other hand grab at his wrist and lace their fingers together, tugging softly with none of the dominating force he'd demonstrated earlier. Chiaki went willingly.

Yuu let him climb in first, sliding in under the covers after him and keeping their fingers linked, bringing Chiaki's hand to his mouth as they settled in and softly kissing the fragile bones along the back, tracing them with his own free hand. "All your livelihood, right here..." Chiaki snorted softly. "What?"

"Nothing, just..." He shrugged. "I half expected you to say something cheesy like, 'Your fingers are beautiful.'"

"Well, they _are_."

"It doesn't count if you say it now."

"Apologies then, Sensei."

"I didn't _want_ you to, idiot," Chiaki groused, but without much irritation. "You just always say stuff like that..."

"Mmm, well it's true."

"Even if you think so—no one ever actually _says_ stuff like that."

"They should. It's...freeing."

"Maybe you're just drunk."

"I've had less than you—how do you explain that?"

"Yeah..." He twisted around onto his side to get more comfortable, letting his thumb rub against Yuu's fingers where they lay laced together. "I guess you're just weird that way..."

"If that's how you want to see it."

"Mmm, I do..." There was a long pause, such that Yuu half-wondered if Chiaki hadn't drifted off, but he spoke again shortly, albeit with a voice rough with fatigue. "...Na, Yuu."

"Hm?"

"...Why'd you fall in love with me?"

"Eh?" He lifted up onto his elbows to stare down at Chiaki, his form blurred into the dark into a slender body outlined in soft moonlight where the light filtered in through Chiaki's window. "Why would..."

Chiaki rolled onto his stomach and lifted onto his own elbows, craning his neck. "I just...realized you never told me."

"Well...you never asked..."

"So I'm asking now."

Yuu's brows furrowed as he fought with himself—he hadn't wanted to dwell too much on the past, on how his lovestruck younger self had fallen for someone out of his league in so many respects, but...Chiaki was asking. Openly and honestly. He sighed and flopped back down, distantly aware of Chiaki lowering himself back to the mattress as well and letting his palm fall flat and warm against Yuu's bicep, idly drawing circles in the flesh with his thumb.

"You remember...when I transferred to your school? Middle school, first year..."

"...The second semester," Chiaki murmured softly, fingers brushing over the sensitive skin where Yuu's arm met his torso and drawing goosebumps in its wake. "You sat next to me."

"You let me use your textbook. Cause I didn't have one of my own yet." He held his hand out and flexed his fingers in the darkness. "...I think I fell in love with your hands first."

The fingers that had started brushing along his collarbone stiffened, falling flat, before continuing their journey. "My— _hands_?"

Yuu nodded, even though Chiaki could barely make him out. "You had...good bone structure."

"Again with my bone structure..."

"And they were really well balanced. I liked to watch you draw doodles in your notebook; it was the first time I'd ever been friends with someone who liked the same things I liked. Before I knew it..." He let his hand fall back limp against the bed, defeated. "...You were all I could think about."

Chiaki felt like he should say something, but no words would come—he could only listen mutely as Yuu dug through his memories and picked and chose these precious moments to share with Chiaki. He flattened his palm and let it slide, warm and broad, across Yuu's bare chest—until he could feel Yuu's heart beating just beneath his hand, like it wanted to break through and fall into Chiaki's grasp. Like it belonged there.

"You were—so bright and happy, and you had dozens of friends—but during breaks or after school...you'd always come find me and sit with me. That..." His voice caught in his throat. "It made me...really happy. _Really_ happy, and I—"

He cut himself off, and Chiaki distantly registered that the room had grown silent. "...Yuu?"

"...Chiaki."

"Wh-what?"

"...What are you doing?"

"Eh?" He brought his consciousness back to ground in his own body and took stock of himself—and realized with a sickening roil of his stomach that his fingers had started stroking, skittering light touches over Yuu's stomach, making the muscles spasm beneath him. He regarded his position with more shock and awe than horror, mildly astounded that he'd just let himself go, and this was where it had taken him. "I...don't know..." he answered as truthfully as possible, blinking in the darkness. He moved to pull his arm back from where he'd practically draped it across Yuu's torso—but stalled when his fingers brushed just at the hem of Yuu's boxers and brought a swift intake of breath from Yuu in response. He jerked his gaze up to Yuu's face, straining in the darkness to watch his reactions with pure, unadulterated interest for once. "...But...can I keep doing it?"

He could _hear_ Yuu swallow nervously, could make out the soft, whining whistle of his breathing and the tell-tale elevation of his surface body temperature. So he didn't need a light to make out the subtle but unmistakable nod of his head.

Chiaki shifted upright a bit, drawing one knee underneath him and pushing back the duvet. It was a pity, he remarked distantly to himself, that he wouldn't be able to see that smile that worked its way across Yuu's face when they did stuff like this. It was probably the next best thing to actually getting off.

He wasted no time in foreplay—he'd worked himself up to this enough unconsciously, and now his fingers were twitching and itching to _touch_. He apologized softly to Yuu, but before the guy could ask what for, he spread his palm wide and cupped Yuu through his boxers, brushing his thumb just across the head and angling his pointer and ring fingers to give a firm stroke to his balls. Yuu hissed like he'd been branded, giving a soft, barely repressed cry and pulling up his knees into a fetal position before forcing himself to relax. Chiaki watched it all impassively, as if he wasn't involved at all. "...Your reactions are really beautiful."

"...N-now who's saying weird things...?"

Chiaki smiled softly, the only indication he'd taken heed of Yuu's quip. "...I can touch you?"

"You're already touching me." Yuu threw back the words Chiaki had given him before, pushing his legs apart to give Chiaki easier access. "Which I really like, in case you were wondering."

"I gathered as much..." He reached in through the small flap in front and curled his fingers around Yuu's half-hard cock, tugging it out into the cool air. Yuu responded with a hissed gasp, and gave a little thrust which Chiaki met with a tighter grip.

He swiped a thumb over the crown again, smearing some of the liquid that had started forming down the shaft, and scraped his fingers softly from root to tip to help spread it. Forming a ring with his thumb and pointer, he pressed down on the head, tight enough to be pleasant, and kept his gaze trained on what little of Yuu's face he could make out.

He had his head thrown back against the pillow, shaking it from side to side and biting his lip—he seemed in pain almost...but Chiaki was fairly sure it had nothing to do with an ache of that sort. He tightened his grip, tugging softly a few times in experimentation, and watched Yuu's mouth fall open, a keening cry seeping out. "Chi...aki..."

A warm ache started to pool instantly in his groin, and he gasped softly, licking his lips and giving another experimental tug: "F—fuck. _Chia_...ki..." He grunted a few times, a pathetic little whining sound that he accompanied with sharp thrusts of his hips. " _Please_..."

He didn't quite know what the _please_ was for...but he didn't much care what Yuu wanted or was comfortable with right now anyways. Shuffling back down on the bed, he released his grip on Yuu's cock and instead pressed his knees apart, sliding his palms quick and smooth down his inner thigh and back to his cock—and then braced himself against the bed with one hand and lowered his head.

"Shit—oh, _shit._ " Yuu's voice sounded clearer now, and more alarmed than passionate—and Chiaki entertained the fleeting thought that he'd committed some great faux pas here with Yuu's cockhead resting just inside his mouth while he tongued the slit because he didn't honestly know what else he was supposed to do right now. "You didn't...you don't have to..."

He released the head and worked up a layer of spit, thrusting his tongue out and laving a long line up and down the shaft. "You should—really just sit back and enjoy this. It's better for both of us if you do." He wrapped his lips wide around the head again, pushing himself down as far as he could bear before sucking hard and drawing back up slowly. Yuu's protests died a swift death in his throat, and he flopped back to the bed with a groan, giving another of his little thrusts that was uncomfortable for Chiaki in this position but still made his chest—and cock—swell with pride and desire at rendering Yuu thus.

True to form, Yuu didn't last long, though he was getting better—he made sure to warn Chiaki in a breathy whine, which Chiaki heeded by pulling up off of Yuu and shifting forward on the bed to place their faces close together while he finished the job with his hand. He wanted to see—wanted to _see_ Yuu come undone. This guy who was always so cocky and self-assured, who fell apart around Chiaki even on a _good_ day and who just let himself go without abandon, without thought or care, who just gave himself entirely over to the pleasure of being with the person he loved. It had to be a _sight_ —

And it _was._ Yuu's fingers scrabbled at the sheets, and he tried to lift himself up, but his limbs lost all strength and he came crashing back down as his orgasm washed over the both of them in short, spurting dribbles that lasted a few long moments as Yuu recovered his breath.

Chiaki glanced down and regarded his fingers, bringing them up to inspect them—dirty, sticky, he needed to wash them off. Fingers that brought Yuu off—fingers he'd moved on his own, fingers he'd flexed to reach out and touch Yuu, of his own accord.

"That..."

He blinked in the darkness, realizing Yuu was speaking to him, and posed a question of his own. "...Did I do it right?"

"You..." Yuu started breathily, then shook his head—not in negation, but with a smile on his face, to brush away his worry. "Fuck. That was..." He took a deep breath and held it, then heaved his upper body up and summarily knocked Chiaki over onto his back, reversing their positions in a quick upset. "You shouldn't have done that..." Yuu warned, and before Chiaki could protest the rough treatment, Yuu had hooked his fingers under the hem of Chiaki's boxers and yanked them down to reveal his own hardened cock bouncing heavily erect against the pale, smooth skin of his stomach.

He swallowed all that he could in one quick motion, using one hand to keep Chiaki's leg from closing in on him, and the other to hold his cock upright as he relaxed his throat and pushed down, down, down until his nose brushed the wiry hairs at the base before pulling back up on a long, tight draw, cheeks concave, coating the shaft with a thick layer of saliva.

Chiaki gave a keening gasp and tried to lock his legs and pull away instinctively, but Yuu's hand braced against one knee held him fast, and he could only settle for enduring the intense attentions with loud, choked gasps. Yuu went down again and pulled up, swirling his tongue around the crown and sucking mercilessly strongly, as if trying to forcibly draw out Chiaki's orgasm.

Chiaki pounded the mattress with one hand, stoppering his mouth with the other—he didn't want to say it, didn't want to let words drip from his mouth when they weren't true, didn't want to build Yuu up only to let him down. But he needed things like this, expressions in other ways than in words, because maybe he could handle it when he didn't have to rely on his traitorous tongue and throat that tended to close up at inopportune times. " _Fuck_ , Yuu...that's..." He bit his tongue when his hand proved useless.

Yuu redoubled his efforts at this encouragement, quickening his strokes on both ends, with his hand and tongue, until Chiaki was warning with a feverish tone that he was close, so close so—and spilling into Yuu's mouth and he continued to stroke, milking Chiaki dry, and swiping a tongue over his tip to draw all of it into his mouth, throat bobbing as he swallowed what he could. He gave a last, soft kiss to the sensitive tip when Chiaki began to grow limp again, tucking his cock back into his boxers and sliding slowly up Chiaki's body until they were faced with one another.

Chiaki regarded him silently for a moment, then reached up with one trembling hand and gripped the back of Yuu's neck, cocking his head just to the side and using Yuu as leverage to pull himself up for a deep kiss before he thought too hard about where Yuu's mouth had just been and what he'd just swallowed. Whatever the risk, it was worth it to feel his lips, still as flushed and desperate as when they'd been wrapped around his cock, giving equally fervent attentions to Chiaki's mouth, working himself up to fever pitch before releasing him with a long sigh and finishing the session with short, attentive nips to the side of his mouth, along his jaw, just under his ear. His breath was hot, hotter still than Chiaki himself. "...I love you so...so fucking much. Everything about you. I always have..."

Chiaki brought both arms up, snapping tight around Yuu to grip his shoulders hard in a hug, their bare chests brushing against one another so that they couldn't miss how hard the other was still breathing. He wanted Yuu to feel this—how hard his heart was beating, how it felt even now like it was going to burst from his chest.

He wasn't too good for Yuu—Yuu was too good for _him_. Always so obliging and patient, never remiss in showing Chiaki, _telling_ Chiaki how happy he was to be with him. The bemused shock he'd shown when Chiaki had taken the tiniest bit of initiative, like it was the grandest gift he could receive...how he continued, daily, to forgive Chiaki for being slow and oblivious and _Chiaki_. How he was able to say things like this, to open himself up wholly without a moment's thought, without a single strand of hesitation or worrying about whether or not what he wanted to say really and truly embodied his feelings: because it obviously _did_ , anyone could see.

He let his mouth fall open and shut a few times in succession, squeezing Yuu tighter in his grip, but all that came out was a frustrated, groaning whine that made him feel like screaming in shame. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why couldn't he give Yuu what he wanted so badly?

Yuu pressed his face against Chiaki's neck, and he could feel him smile against his skin where he pressed a soft kiss at the crook of his neck. "We've got work in the morning. We should go to bed—and actually sleep this time." He chuckled softly...but Chiaki felt more like crying.

Chiaki didn't respond, just let Yuu push him back down before he rolled over, placing his back to the one person in the world he was fairly sure he would ever be capable of loving, but never able to say so.


	15. Chapter 15

Yuu was an early riser, Chiaki was realizing. It was annoying for a number of reasons—Chiaki hated those _rise-and-shine_ over-achieving types in principle, but compounding this was the loss of a warm bedmate that somehow made Chiaki's spacious mattress feel uncomfortably lonely. Which was ridiculous: he had enough bed to fit four people comfortably probably, and they hadn't touched since falling asleep. Why should he even be _conscious_ of any absence of another body in the bed?

Regardless, he was—and it was this absence along with the sounds that accompanied a busy morning which roused Chiaki into consciousness before Yuu could think of some devious threat to get him upright and dressed.

He showered while Yuu was puttering around the kitchen, putting off his _good morning_ until he'd cleaned and clothed himself, feeling decidedly more alive and awake in clean underwear and a tanktop than the nearly naked state he'd let himself fall asleep in. It was for that very reason that towards the end of the shower he'd deliberately doused himself with a spray of cold water for good measure—he was going to have a hard enough time facing Yuu as it was.

He padded softly into the kitchen and dining area after finishing his morning rituals to find Yuu scraping the rice cooker for the last few grains, the familiar scent of miso soup wafting through the condo. "No eggs with _I love you_ written in ketchup?" Chiaki teased lightly, slipping into a chair at the table while Yuu finished his preparations, and he earned a look of bemusement while Yuu processed whether or not Chiaki was actually serious.

A snort was the quick response soon after. "Don't knock my go-to breakfast item—especially when you're getting it for free." Chiaki nodded primly in response, watching quietly as Yuu fished around Chiaki's cupboards trying to find the soup spoons.

He let his gaze fall over Yuu's back, noticing that his hair was slightly damp and clung in small curly tendrils at the back of his neck. The pants he was wearing were his own from the day before—but the shirt was… "Hey."

"Hm?"

"…That's my shirt."

Yuu twisted around, having finally found the spoons, and glanced down at himself as if only just realizing that Chiaki was indeed correct. "…Oh. Well, yeah." He shrugged. "I couldn't wear the same thing I had on yesterday, could I?" He let his lips curl up at the sides as he spooned miso soup into two small bowls. "Imagine how the girls would talk…"

Chiaki rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he slumped back against the chair. "They'd assume you were out on a date or something probably."

"Ah yes, with my _mysterious_ lover." He frowned. "…I thought you didn't want them getting curious about that?"

"I don't—" he started, then cut himself off. "I mean…just, if they get too suspicious, they might start connecting dots. And Kurihara-san's a gossip."

Yuu eyed him strangely, but didn't press the matter further, instead carefully carrying the bowls of soup over to the table, shortly followed up with steaming white rice and tea. "Your breakfast, my liege."

Chiaki dug in with vigor, his appetite spurred on by having an actual breakfast to look forward to for the first time in a long while. Dinners were relatively commonplace between Tori and Yuu, but morning meals were a much rarer beast, and it triggered a funny feeling in Chiaki's chest when he realized the contexts in which he'd now enjoyed breakfast by Yuu _twice_ in as many weeks.

Yuu broke the awkward silence that had threatened to settle between them as they ate by turning Chiaki's attention to the panels he'd been working on the previous day, offering his comments on the rate at which things were progressing in the manga and pressing Chiaki for hints as to where he was planning on taking the main couple in their recent story arc.

Chiaki finished the last of his soup with a loud slurp and laughed to himself. "I dunno. Maybe I'll have them move in together so he can make her breakfast every morning."

Yuu nodded ambivalently, taking up Chiaki's empty bowl with his own and padding into the kitchen to rinse them out in the sink. "Everyone _does_ love a guy who knows his way around a kitchen after all." He turned off the water, silencing the loud hiss, and reached for a sponge to start the cleanup, with Chiaki watching him silently from across the space, leaning forward to let his head rest where his arms were crossed on the table.

"…Hey."

"Hm?"

Chiaki swallowed thickly and glanced away, focusing on a point on the opposite side of the room and trying to blur his vision so nothing mattered anymore. "…I'm…sorry."

"Hm? For what?" Yuu turned the water on again at a softer flow, rinsing the suds down the drain.

His shoulders tensed as he ground out, "…For last night." The water stopped.

"…What about it?"

Chiaki closed his eyes and fought the urge to bang his head on the table. Of course Yuu had to sound like he was waiting for his death sentence to be carried out. "For…not being able to say anything. When…you know. You said you loved me."

He didn't really know why he was apologizing; Yuu had told him those words a dozen times and more over the past few months, it was no new reaction. But something had felt like it had snapped last night, like it was a last straw, and it wasn't necessarily that _Yuu's_ words meant something new, but rather that Chiaki's inability to say anything— _anything_ —in return meant something new. He'd never been all that adept at expressing himself—especially when pressured like that—but…where the spirit had been willing on some level, the flesh had failed to rise to the occasion. And it made Chiaki feel like shit.

Yuu was at his side when he glanced up, removing Chiaki's half-finished glass of tea from before him and ruffling his hair with his free hand, smile soft and sad. "…I know."

Somehow, being forgiven like that didn't make Chiaki feel one whit better.

* * *

The studio was a madhouse—two of the assistants had gotten food poisoning (Kurihara-san looked very guilty, and Chiaki wondered offhand if said food poisoning hadn't been a result of a wild night at one of the group dates Yuu had been avoiding). While the circumstances were understandable, though, this did nothing to mitigate the fact that they were down two hands and the deadline bearing down on them as it did every month was not going to ease up just because nearly half the drawing team was laid up in bed.

However, this meant that—for better or worse—Chiaki had no time to dwell on the events of the past few days, his as-yet undefined feelings for his friend, and the implications of said feelings on their relationship in the future. Scrambling to find replacements for the next few days to take over for the assistants out of commission and trying to negotiate with Tori for an extension of even a few hours was draining even on a good day; with the added stress of dealing with Yuu…it was rough.

His head was pounding with an oncoming migraine by the time the sun had set, and Tori's lecture that he really needed to have fail-safe plans for situations like this wasn't helping, especially since he had skipped lunch to discuss fill-ins for the absent assistants and it was coming back to bite him now.

His stomach growled low and long, and he flushed in embarrassment, apologizing.

Tori huffed softly and shook his head, snatching up the pages of photocopied panels he'd brought in with him, red marks scoring the pages to indicate which were now being assigned to the new faces that would be in the next morning. "…There's nothing more that can be done anyways. I apologize for taking up so much time."

Chiaki hated it when Tori slipped into that damned formal editor-speak he would adopt around others and waved him off. "No, it's fine—and, thanks. For helping organize all of this." There was a knock at the door, and Yuu's head popped into the studio. Chiaki glanced around quickly—he hadn't even noticed the guy leave—and realized the other assistants had all taken their work home. It was just the three of them—like old times.

"Just letting you know I'm headed out—if that's fine?" He shook the bag draped across his shoulder for show. "I'll finish the panels at home; don't wanna be stuck here all night, and I could use a long bath anyways."

Chiaki pushed himself away from his desk, moving to stand and calling out to Yuu, "Ah—wait—" Yuu did as asked, but Chiaki jolted when he noted Tori in his line of vision, calmly placing his neatly shuffled papers into his briefcase and trying not to look like he was hanging on Chiaki's every word. Guilt gnawed at him—he could hardly have a conversation with Yuu while Tori was sitting here between them like this.

He didn't want to let Yuu just…go off like this. Granted, he didn't honestly know _what_ he wanted Yuu to do, and it was just one evening that they weren't spending eating out or doing overtime together or getting distracted and _not_ doing overtime together—but still. He felt a bit guilty just ending the day like this when it had started off decidedly different.

He pursed his lips and nodded politely, sending Yuu off with a wave and a _see you tomorrow_ , then spent the next five minutes trying to ignore the way Tori was staring at him, almost accusing. He quickly grew irritated with the attention, slapping his hand on the desk. " _What_?"

"He was obviously waiting for you."

"Well—" Chiaki gestured to what had been a mountain of confusing panels between them but was now empty desk space after Tori had finished cleaning up. "—we were busy. No sense in everyone getting home late just because of me."

"Well aren't you the magnanimous one." Tori shook his head. "Since when did you start trying to play the mature, organized mangaka card? It doesn't suit you at all."

"I'm doing what you wanted, aren't I? Keeping things professional at work." He knew he was being short with Tori when it wasn't really his fault at all, but he was annoyed for some undefinable reason, and Tori was the only one left to take it out on.

Tori frowned but remained as impassive as always. "Like I said, it doesn't suit you at all."

* * *

The dour mood which had dogged Chiaki throughout the day was not lifted upon returning home to his chilly, empty apartment. He was tired, hungry, and irritated, and while any of these would be bad enough to deal with alone, the fact that they were all three bearing down upon him at once made the evening nigh unbearable. He slung his pack across the table, ignoring the manila folder that slipped free through the unfastened flap, spilling half-finished panels across the table.

His fridge was empty—he didn't even know where Yuu had found the ingredients for breakfast that morning (maybe he'd gone shopping? Show-off)—which meant he had no quick meals. But the nearest conbini was a five minute walk away, and if he wanted to order delivery, he was going to have to dig out the take-out menus he'd gleaned from local restaurants over time. Which all required effort.

He wandered back into the living room, slumping into a heap on the couch, and let his head fall back against one of the cushions as he stretched out long-ways. He rested one arm over his eyes to block out the light streaming from above—he just wanted to rest his eyes a bit, that was all. He was too hungry to fall asleep at least, so there was no worry there.

What the hell was he doing?

He didn't need lectures from Tori _or_ Yuu to know he was in a fit state right now. His job was his life, and he loved it—but that didn't mean it wasn't the biggest source of stress for him by and large. So why was he burdening himself with the added stress of working out a relationship—and not just any relationship, but one with one of his _male_ best friends? Why had he even started down this path in the first place?

He'd tried to fool himself for a long time that he wanted to be 'fair' to Yuu, to give him a chance to maybe find happiness with Chiaki or at least see for himself why they might never work out. He hadn't…seriously expected anything to come of it, really. But while he might have _told_ Yuu that was his reasoning, it was more that…he just didn't want to lose Yuu. In any sense. And if being in love with Chiaki was part of what made Yuu _Yuu_ , then…he didn't want the guy to stop.

Everything would be so much easier if he just knew what to call how he felt about Yuu. Friendship was easy to recognize; desire, even more so. He definitely…had learned to recognize _that_. Not any kind of heart-pounding, unignorable tug or anything like that, but just…now and then. Yuu would say something to Kurihara-san, or wrinkle his nose and push his glasses up where they were sliding down, or they'd be sitting on the couch sketching together and Yuu would let his free hand massage Chiaki's shoulders or—they'd kiss, and then they'd _kiss_ , and things would escalate and maybe they'd calm down or maybe it wouldn't stop until they'd gotten off one way or another.

Chiaki was distantly aware of his breathing picking up and coming at a faster clip, but he was lost in thought. Thoughts like how he remembered when kissing Yuu was the most terrifying thing he could consider, could still recall the pressure he felt to go through with it on their first make-shift date. Now these little brushes on the cheek were almost commonplace (but still left Chiaki feeling like he had butterflies in his stomach and not sure how he should respond), and he no longer shied away from any affections Yuu wanted to bestow on him. It was kind of ridiculous, given the other things they'd done together by this point.

But it wasn't entirely a lie to say that it was all one-sided either. It was only…he didn't want to get Yuu's hopes up. He didn't want to indulge in little selfish whims like leaning in to press a hinting kiss to the side of Yuu's neck when they were sitting so close on the couch and both clearly not getting any work done, didn't want to roll over and close the distance in the bed and sleep like they had meant to sleep _together_ instead of just retiring in the same space. Didn't want to do any of these things because—it was just a selfish desire of the here and now, fleeting and willful and not fair to burden Yuu with if he couldn't be convinced he'd want the same things tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that.

Except it was getting harder and harder to convince himself that he was that altruistic. Each time Yuu whispered against his lips or his skin or into the darkness _I love you_ , it tore down a little more of Chiaki's willpower, a wave crashing over him and trying to drag him out with it, making him drown in emotion and telling him it was okay to breathe, to take it all in, to embrace it—but some part of him still resisted. It was becoming less a selfish desire for his own purposes and more a longing to _share_. To let Yuu know somehow, through some means more than words, that he understood, he appreciated, he _loved back_ , even if he wasn't entirely confident on any of those points. It just grated so to know that somewhere out there in the Tokyo night, Yuu was sitting on his couch, sketching a cafe scene, still ignorant as to how Chiaki felt about him.

It was hard to tell sometimes who was hurt more by this confusion.

The Yuu in his mind blurred a bit, growing hazy and out of focus, until he blended into a collage of Yuus, this one hunched over a drawing desk with his glasses perched high on the bridge of his nose, this one sprawled on his couch knocking back a beer with a sardonic grin, this one leaning against a bar in a nice suit with rosy cheeks telling Chiaki _I like you_ …and this one flat on his back, face hidden in dim light, with his back arching and breath coming in pants between choked cries of Chiaki's name, fingers fisting in Chiaki's bedsheets—

_bzzzz bzzzz bzzzz_

Chiaki's eyes popped open and he jerked his arm away from his face, blinking blearily in the bright light of his living room.

_bzzzz bzzzz bzzzz_

Somewhere along the way, his free hand had migrated down to his abdomen and was stroking the sensitive flesh just above the hem of his pants, waiting to be urged further down. He frowned at his actions and ignored the now-familiar ache that had started pooling at the base of his spine, shifting uncomfortably as he heaved himself upright and reached for his phone. Sitting on his couch alone, two steps from jerking off thinking about his best friend; he was pitiful.

"Hello?"

_"Chiaki?"_

Chiaki's stomach fell, and he crossed his legs with a wince, curling into a small ball. "Ah—yeah?" It was like Yuu was equipped with some sort of psychic knowledge of just when to catch Chiaki most unawares.

_"…Is this a bad time?"_

"No! No, sorry—was just…trying to figure out what to have for dinner."

Yuu laughed from the other end. _"Make sure you eat_ something _. Just because no one's there to cook for you doesn't mean you should let yourself starve."_

Chiaki frowned, flopping back onto the cushions. "I can handle myself fine a few nights a week…" He didn't so much mind if it sounded like he was implying he'd rather be with Yuu in some form or another those other nights, though.

 _"Yeah yeah…oh, so—do you have your layout panels with you? I had a question about page 15…"_ Yuu droned on for what felt like ages, commenting on angles and shading and paneling focus points and the Rule of Thirds before he eventually caught on that Chiaki wasn't really listening. _"Chiaki? …Helloooo?"_

"Eh?"

 _"Geez, what's with you today?"_ He didn't sound annoyed so much as concerned, and Chiaki closed his eyes, imagining the expression on his face, brows knit together in confusion, head cocked just to the side, lips pursed in a thin line and tugging to one side as he tried to divine the reason Chiaki was so _off_.

"…Sorry, I'm just… I dunno." He massaged one temple with his free hand, sighing to himself—this was ridiculous. He wasn't getting anything done at this rate. He tensed his shoulders and glanced up, then swallowed once and cradled the phone closer to his mouth, praying his voice didn't crack under his nerves. "N-na, Yuu?"

_"What?"_

"…You mind if I come over?"

 _"Eh?"_ He feigned shock, laughing roughly. _"What—right now? It's—almost 9 you know?"_

Chiaki held a breath. "…I know."

There was a long pause, and Chiaki despaired for a moment that he'd taken a calculated risk and it was about to snap back and slap him in the face now. _"…You know, Yoshino-sensei. If you're not careful, I'll get the wrong idea."_

Chiaki wanted to _laugh_ and return that _then maybe it's the_ right _idea_ , but nerves stilled his tongue. He licked his lips and coughed softly. "Just—I know it's late and all..."

He could hear Yuu snort over the phone, could picture the way his lips were curving up at their corners, knew he was probably smiling that smile he got whenever he kissed Chiaki. He wanted to see it in person. Right now. _"I never said 'no.'"_

He had a bag packed in five minutes—unfinished manga panels included, since he wasn't expecting to return before hitting the studio the next morning—and was jogging towards the station in a huff only moments later, his sneakers slapping loudly and rhythmically against the asphalt. It was a 23-minute train ride to Yuu's house, not counting the 5-minute change-over. And then another 6 minutes to his apartment. Thirty-four minutes.

Thirty-four minutes to figure out what he was going there for.

* * *

Yuu raised a brow when he opened the door and found Chiaki standing there, looking guilty and a bit abashed—though the flush to his cheeks may have been from the chilly night air. He gestured to the small bag hanging from Chiaki's shoulder opposite his satchel. "Planning on spending the evening, I see?" Chiaki just hunched lower in his coat and brushed past Yuu inside, toeing off his sneakers and dropping both his bags by the door before padding into Yuu's living room. Yuu frowned, glancing down at the discarded bags and then at Chiaki himself. "...Aren't we doing work?"

Chiaki flopped onto the couch, rubbing at his face. "You can't seriously want to work after that day, can you?" He paused, then glanced up and realized the low coffee table was strewn with half-finished panels Yuu had been working on, very obviously taking the deadline more seriously than Chiaki. Granted, it wasn't too terribly difficult for anyone with a pulse to take deadlines more seriously than Chiaki. "...Oh, sorry."

Yuu waved him off and headed into the kitchen to pour some tea he'd had steeping. "It's fine. I was looking for an excuse to stop anyways." He topped off two mugs and stepped gingerly back into the living room, passing Chiaki one. "I think I mostly just called you to hear you, honestly."

Chiaki glanced up quickly, eyes wide, and found Yuu averting his gaze, a light blush painting his cheeks. It was comforting, almost, to know this guy got embarrassed by some of the things he said too.

"...Sorry."

"Hm?"

"About...you know. Earlier in the studio. With Tori." He scratched at the back of his neck. "I don't...really know how to act around the two of you now. It's fine if it's one-on-one, but I feel like I have to walk around eggshells when you're both there."

Yuu _hmm_ ed softly, lips curving up into a smile—and it was indeed just how Chiaki had imagined it, if a bit more devious. "Don't jump through hoops on my part. Feel free to be as lovey-dovey in front of him as you like." He punctuated this with a bright grin that was just a bit cold to boot, and Chiaki rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying—it's not for me that you have to be uptight."

"You're part of the problem though," Chiaki groused, hiding his face in the mug as he took a sip. He felt Yuu's eyes on him the whole while, though, and when he finally could stand it no more, he snapped, " _What_?"

"Chiaki."

"What?" he repeated, a measure more controlled, and he placed the mug on the table before him, feeling the irritation from throughout the day coming back with a vengeance. He'd thought it would get _better_ being here with Yuu like he'd wanted to be...

Yuu cocked his head to one side. "...What're you doing here?"

"I—" Chiaki cut himself off, terrified of what would come out if he responded so suddenly and frankly, and he swallowed. "I..." Still, nothing would come out. He was here for fifty different reasons, and none of them seemed right to tell Yuu. He clenched his fists and ran his hands through his hair, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Just...because." Because he wanted to be here.

Yuu nodded slowly, as if this were somehow an acceptable answer, and placed his own mug on the table as well. "...You sure you're okay?"

"Eh?"

Yuu cleared his throat softly, scratching at the side of his mouth, and tried to give a rough laugh, but it came out a bit strangled with nerves. "I mean...doing this kind of stuff all the time." He didn't need to elaborate on what _this kind of stuff_ was—it had been obvious the moment Chiaki had asked to come over.

Chiaki leaned forward and let his elbows rest on his knees, ducking his head and staring at a spot on the floor beneath him. He felt alone somehow, here in this small apartment with Yuu. Like there was a wall between them that Yuu couldn't climb over and Chiaki couldn't take down. "...No," he answered as honestly as he could. "I'm not—okay at all. So...so..."

"Chiaki..." He winced at his name on Yuu's lips. He'd heard it in so many contexts now, and this was one of his least favorite. "...Do you...even understand _why_ I do this with you? Why I _want_ to do it with you? I mean—" He laughed a dry, rough laugh, devoid of mirth. "—I can probably guess why _you_ might. A few reasons even. But..." He licked his lips. "...It means something to me. Even if it's not the same as what it means to you—and I like how it makes me feel. But...you shouldn't feel like you have to—"  
  
"I _don't_ ," Chiaki snapped, gaze locking with Yuu's, and he wondered for a brief moment what he looked like, if this was one of those times Yuu wanted him to see himself in a mirror so that he could understand why Yuu felt about him the way he did. "It means _...something_ to me, too. Just because I don't know what that is doesn't mean I don't feel it." He was here, wasn't he? Shouldn't it be obvious there was something more than wanting to get off together at work here?

Yuu still looked hesitant, expression almost patronizing, and Chiaki could all but hear the lecture starting to form on his lips. Before he could even open his mouth, he pushed himself up and snapped a hand over, grabbing the wrist nearest to him and jerking Yuu behind him—towards Yuu's bedroom. "Fine."

"What?" He tugged his wrist, trying to free it from Chiaki's grip. "Oi—let go." When Chiaki didn't respond, he gave a harder tug and managed to free himself, massaging his wrist and watching Chiaki shuffle towards the bed, peeling off the hoodie he'd donned on the way over, and taking a seat on the edge of Yuu's bed, looking strange in his thin t-shirt and baggy pants that spoke of too many deadlines sapping his lifeforce. "...What the hell?" Chiaki shot him a dispassionate look before gripping the hem of the shirt and pulling it up and over his head. Yuu stood limp in the doorway, watching Chiaki disrobe with mechanical precision.

If the situation had been any less serious, Yuu might have made a teasing remark when Chiaki stopped as he reached his boxers, sitting half-naked and vulnerable on the edge of Yuu's bed in his chilly apartment. He shivered, and part of Yuu wanted badly to press him down on the bed and warm him up any number of ways. Instead, he swallowed and cleared his throat. "...You don't want to do this."

"I do," was the snapped retort, returned so quickly Yuu wondered if he hadn't been preparing for just this occasion.

But Yuu was resolute. "No. You don't."

"I _do_!" And finally there was the whiny, demanding Chiaki that Yuu had been missing, the one that had been replaced by edgy, irritated, mysterious Chiaki. It was a relief, almost, to be faced once more with a Chiaki who was contentious and waxing childish. "I do," he continued, voice a bit steadier, and he clasped his hands before himself. "That's—the whole problem. I want to, I mean—I...I _really_ want to." And here, Yuu had to hold onto the doorjamb to keep himself straight, breath catching in his throat as he watched Chiaki unfold before him.

"I want to be even closer to you than I am. I want...you to hold me like you did last night, like you always look like you want to hold me but you can't for one reason or another. I want you to—do crazy romantic things like kiss me and tell me you love me at inappropriate times, and make my heart race and _all_ of that." He coughed softly, catching himself. "...I want it so bad I can say embarrassing things like this even though I feel like as soon as I stop talking I'm going to faint here."

He glanced up, locking eyes with Yuu, and Yuu felt like he wanted to just crumple to the floor here, like he wasn't ready for Chiaki to look at him like this just now. Not yet—he needed to _prepare_ himself for this. But Chiaki was merciless. "I know—you think I don't know what I feel. And you're right, I don't. Not really. But—I know that...there are lots of different levels of love. It's not just one thing and nothing else, Yuu. And maybe your love is strong and—and steady and faithful and confident in itself, but—that doesn't mean that what I feel is any less the same emotion just because it's new and still a little confusing and maybe it embarrasses me but is still completely genuine, you know?" He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "I just...I can't _say_ it. I can't—" He shook his head. "But—I don't know how else to get across how I feel than to...do this with you. It's not that I feel forced, so don't say that!" His voice got a bit shrill with desperation, and he quickly checked himself. "It's just...this is how it is."

Yuu took a few tentative steps forward on shakey legs, letting Chiaki's words wash over him like powerful waves, beating him down. "You've been lecturing for weeks, _months_ now...about what it means when you feel this way. So I'm not stupid." Even in the low light of his bedroom, Yuu couldn't miss the way Chiaki was blushing now. "You said, before, that you wanted to do...all of this with me. But—only if I wanted it too." He glanced up, hesitant, when Yuu paused just in front of him. "...Just—if you need me to say it, then...give me a little more time and—"

He didn't finish, instead releasing a soft _oof_ when Yuu darted forward and pressed their lips together, one hand cradling the back of Chiaki's head while he dropped his mouth open and deepened the kiss, quickly pressing forward and knocking Chiaki down to the bed in one swift, smooth motion. He straddled Chiaki, running his hands over the smooth skin he'd been wanting to touch with twitchy fingers since Chiaki had passed the threshold. He gentled his attentions just a hair, continuing to trail soft kisses over Chiaki's lips, cheeks, jaw, neck. "I think...you've said more than enough for now. You should really shut up."

Chiaki's only response was a weak whimper and a nod, tilting his head to the side to catch Yuu's lips again, reaching around with one hand to the base of Yuu's neck and stroking lightly with his thumb until Yuu grunted a protest into his mouth before pulling back. He stood up straight again, balancing on one knee on the bed, and pulled his shirt off over his head, tossing it haphazardly to the side. "I'm really glad I decided to take a shower before dinner and not after."

Chiaki frowned, reaching up with grasping fingers that clenched when Yuu laced theirs together. "Don't have to sound so cocky..."

"Oh, but I _do_." He didn't give Chiaki a chance to object to this retort, though, and slid back over him, lowering himself slowly and brushing their hips together with a light, teasing pass that sent Chiaki gasping shortly into his mouth. He pressed down again, this time with purpose, and clenched his buttocks to stroke their cocks together through the little material they still wore, executing a few mock thrusts to coax the both of them into firmer, more prominent erections. He chuckled softly at the sounds Chiaki was making, urged on with each new squeak, choked groan, and muffled cry.

Pressing their lips together for a slow, languid kiss as he gentled his motions, Yuu dragged himself up Chiaki's body and whispered grufflly, "...I don't think I've ever wanted to fuck someone more in my life. Shit." He pressed his face into the crook of Chiaki's neck and breathed in deeply, trying to steady himself. "...But I'll stop if you want. Just—I'd really appreciate it if you'd tell me sooner, rather than later."

Chiaki laughed—surprising himself with his ability to do so—and wiped a palm over his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "I thought I was supposed to shut up?"

Yuu pulled back, frowning. "I'm _serious_ —"

Chiaki reached up and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back down and cocking his head to the side to slit their mouths together. "Sometimes I think that's your problem." And really, Chiaki was in no position to be calling others uptight and flustered and worrywarts, but it was the truth of the matter just now, and he really didn't want to think about _consequences_ and all the nasty crap he'd be faced with in the morning. Right now, he was sure he'd never been thinking clearer, more coherently, with more _conviction_ , and he wanted to capitalize on this.

One-handed, Yuu managed to ease his pants halfway down his legs, before physics kicked in and he was forced to pull up off Chiaki and remove the last vestiges of his clothes—while Chiaki completed similar activities with his underwear. He disappeared into the bathroom for only a moment, sensing Chiaki's curious gaze burning into him, and after rummaging around under the sink, returned shortly with a non-descript tube in one hand and a package whose contents Chiaki could easily divine in the other.

"That's..." he started, gulping, and then quickly glanced away, steadying his breathing.

Yuu kneeled onto the bed, crawling forward awkwardly with the items in his hands. "...I _told_ you—"

"And _I_ told _you_ —" He snatched up the tube almost angrily, trying to determine exactly how to open it. "S-so...how does this work?"

Yuu raised a brow. "...What makes you think I know?"

Chiaki returned the expression, albeit with a darker flush to his cheeks. "You keep this kind of stuff in your bathroom; you're obviously prepared for _something_."

Yuu regarded him evenly, cocking his head as he watched Chiaki prise open the top and squeeze a small dollop of the clear gel onto his fingers, giving it an experimental sniff. "...Are you jealous?"

"Of what?"

"That I've slept with other people."

Chiaki shot him a glare. "...I'm just annoyed that I'm the only one with no experience is all. Seems awfully unfair."

Yuu reached for the tube with one hand and pressed his other onto Chiaki's chest, urging him flat onto his back. "Maybe. But just know that if I _didn't_ have experience, this would probably be a lot less pleasant than I'm planning on making it." Chiaki shivered—though from desire or worry, it was unclear. Yuu tapped his knees where they bent on either side of him. "Spread."

"Wh-what?"

"Your legs. Spread them."

"Eh—? But, I—" He swallowed hard at Yuu's glance, then looked away, closing his eyes in shame and letting his knees fall open. "This is way more complicated than I was expecting..."

Yuu braced one hand on one of Chiaki's knees, scooting in for a better angle, and passed his lubed hand cleanly over Chiaki's cock, earning a stifled hiss of pleasure. "We'll get better with practice. Now—relax." He gave a few more experimental passes over Chiaki's cock before depositing a generous portion around his opening, gently easing a finger in a few inches and then back out, watching Chiaki carefully for a reaction. "Not so bad, huh?"

"No..." Chiaki admitted, but his teeth were grit, and Yuu could feel the tension in his body hadn't relented a bit. He ran his free hand down Chiaki's thigh, over his hip, and brushed lightly against his cock before repeating the motion, easing his finger in a bit further each time until he was satisfied. Chiaki's breathing had gone a bit shallower, not so heavy and labored, and Yuu relaxed a hair.

The guy took his preparation surprisingly well, Yuu was noting, impressed. It either wasn't so bad, or he was fighting crying out the expletives he likely was storing up for the main event. In the back of his mind, Yuu still wasn't quite sure what was going through Chiaki's head tonight, but at this point, it was getting harder and harder to keep his gentleman side in control as his baser instincts took root and held on fast, whispering sweet temptations in his ear about how _tight_ and _hot_ and _amazing_ Chiaki would be, how there'd be nothing like hearing him cry Yuu's name while he pounded into him, how—

" _Shit_ —okay, okay just—that's enough."

"Wh—at?"

Chiaki shook his head and pounded the mattress. "I'd rather just get on with—you know, the rest of it. I don't care if it hurts—this is driving me crazy here. It's supposed to feel good, right?" He was staring up at Yuu plaintively, worry clearly evident in his eyes, and Yuu once again fought back those stirrings in his mind coaxing him on. "I can take it."

Yuu frowned; he'd managed a good bit of preparation, but for Chiaki he'd really wanted to take all the care he could. It was almost laughable—in every sense, he was always wanting to _take care_ of Chiaki: meals, work, and now _this_. There was probably a psychological assessment for that level of over-bearingness.

But here Chiaki was, flat on his back and legs spread and looking like something that even he would've blushed at in his wildest fantasies. Chiaki had always been this _object_ , far away and unreachable and untaintable, and now... "...I don't want to hurt you."

Chiaki rolled his eyes. "Then make it feel good. And if it's that bad, let me do you next time. We'll be even." He forced his brows up, hopeful, on the end, and Yuu bit his lip to keep from releasing an inelegant snort. Now was definitely not the time to be entertaining thoughts of that far-off, mystical _next time_. He was having a hard enough time keeping it together _now_. "Hurry..."

Yuu nodded mutely, ripping into the condom packaging and rolling it on quicker than Chiaki's eyes could even follow, finishing it off with another generous helping of lubricant that had his cock nearly gleaming when it caught the low light bouncing around the room. He pressed Chiaki's legs apart and situated his hips between them, letting his cock slip and slide against Chiaki's own to draw the mood back. Chiaki whined softly and lifted up onto his elbows enough to meet Yuu's lips, swiping his tongue against Yuu's and sucking softly before offering a light thrust of his own to urge Yuu along.

Even pressing in slowly as he did, it was a tighter fit than he'd been expecting, and Chiaki scrabbled for purchase, biting his lip almost to the point of spilling blood. Yuu brought their chests together to give Chiaki a firm surface to cling to, wincing a bit when his hug tightened progressively as Yuu pressed inside, pausing every few moments to give Chiaki room to breathe. They neither one of them spoke a word until Yuu pulled back, letting their foreheads rest together while they caught their breath.

"...Please...tell me that's it."

"That's it."

Chiaki flopped back against the bed, boneless, and scrunched his face up into an unattractive mess. " _Shit_ that hurts. It's like..." He grimaced further. "I'm not going to say what it's like. But it fucking hurts. Who the hell would do this more than once to see if it's _really_ this bad?"

Yuu chuckled softly, trying his level best not to move or pay too close attention to how tight Chiaki was around him and how all he _really_ wanted to do right now was pull out just a bit and then slam back in, to see what kinds of noises he could wring from Chiaki. "I promise it gets better."

"It _better_ get better."

"It definitely does," he reassured Chiaki, and gave a small experimental thrust to see if Chiaki was up to it. "Mind if I move now?"

Chiaki's grimace was unmoved, but he nodded anyways. "It's fine—I figure it can't be any worse."

The challenge presented, Yuu gave a little scoot and moved himself further up the bed, changing the angle at which he was leaning over Chiaki just a hair. He pulled out long and slow, agonizingly so for himself and likely no less enjoyable for Chiaki as well, before sliding back in and seating himself fully inside Chiaki. If he dwelled too long on _what_ he was doing and _with whom_ , he knew he was going to pop, and he couldn't let this pass without showing Chiaki that, whatever his reasoning, he hadn't made a poor decision in coming to Yuu's bed this way.

He executed another shallow thrust, noting with some relief that each subsequent pass was coming easier, smoother than the one before it, and soon he had found a pace he was comfortable with and started well and thoroughly fucking the man he was in love with.

Beneath him, Chiaki was curled in on himself a bit, back arched and legs spread wide, and he had his head flung backwards against one of the pillows, still fighting being too very vocal—but this all changed when Yuu leaned just to the side a bit and changed up the angle again, as if seeking out something that was—

" _Sh—shit!_ That..." Chiaki scrambled up onto his elbows, staring down at himself in abject wonder, glancing back and forth between Yuu and his cock. "What the _hell_ —"

"Told you," Yuu grunted between thrusts. "It gets better." He demonstrated this by giving another sharp, punching thrust that hit the same spot square on and sending Chiaki into spasms. He got rather vocal after this, muttering a stream of unintelligible babble punctuated only ever so often with _Yuu_ and _fuck_ and _shit, yes_ and every expletive he could dredge up between alternating begging for Yuu to be slower, gentler, not so fast and then to go faster, harder, he was close, so close—

Yuu let his hips pump along unaided and reached between them, helping Chiaki jerk himself off, until he felt his orgasm sneak up on him all at once, a phantom wave from nowhere crashing over and around him as he pressed, hard and long, into Chiaki, thrusting when he had no room even, just to bring himself closer, deeper, until they were inseparable. Chiaki climaxed over his hand, spurts turning into pathetic dribbles that coated the both of them—fingers, hands, stomach—until it felt like he'd never been dirtier or more fulfilled in his entire life.

He slipped free from Chiaki when he could muster the strength, stripping off the condom—heavy with a thick, milky substance—and letting it drop into a trashcan beside the bed. He spent a few moments recovering from this effort to slide over the bed and up next to Chiaki, who looked like he'd quite possibly passed out.

"...If you ask _was it good for you_ , I'm going to hit you. When my limbs start working again."

Yuu blinked in the darkness, letting Chiaki's words flow over him, and smiled softly without offering the retort he would have normally delivered without second thought. "A raincheck on that, then."

Chiaki couldn't suppress the giggle that bubbled up out of his throat, but groaned painfully subsequently. "...Definitely a raincheck."

They let a silence that was not entirely uncomfortable settle between them, their heavy breathing dying down and reminding them that it was fall waxing on towards winter and that working up a sweat tended to leave one chilly afterwords. Yuu was about to suggest he go find some tissues to wipe down with and a blanket for the bed—until the silence was rent by a loud gurgling.

He hoped Chiaki could forgive him for the rather inelegant way he laughed his ass off.

"Sh—shut up! I haven't eaten anything since this morning. I was starving _before_ I came here; imagine how I feel _now_."

Yuu placated him with a few soft _yeah yeah_ s, shifting to roll out of the bed. "I'll order a pizza—should give us time to make ourselves presentable. Unless you want a little more time to—" He fell silent at Chiaki's hand on his wrist, holding him in place. "...Chiaki?"

Chiaki had his gaze focused off to the side, cheeks flushed with shame more than desire now. "...You're...sure you're okay? Being with me? Even though I'm like this?"

"...'Like this'?" Yuu tested, not because he didn't understand what Chiaki meant, but because he wanted to hear Chiaki say it himself.

Chiaki swallowed and forced his eyes to meet Yuu's. "Just—I...can't say it yet. But—I promise I'll never say I don't love you again."

Yuu felt his heart execute a few choice acrobatic maneuvers that left him feeling lightheaded, and he swayed in place, leaning forward and straddling Chiaki's chest with his arms. He prayed his voice wouldn't fail him now. "Yoshino Chiaki. You're an oblivious airhead who breaks his deadlines left and right. You're fun when you're tipsy, but you're a horrible drunk. Also—you whine like a girl during sex, apparently." Chiaki's face was turning shades of _violet_ now, but this just made Yuu grin wider, and he dropped his voice, punctuating his declaration _sotto voce_ : "I wouldn't have you any other way."


End file.
